Perfect Dark Novelization
by Miss Licious
Summary: Loose novelization of the Nintendo 64 Game.
1. Prologue

**Perfect Dark: The Novelization**

**Prologue**

The sprawling blue sky seemed to float ambrosially above the breathtakingly-tall DataDyne skyscraper, as hover-cars seemed to dance around the top and the center of the stark, grey-scale building. The magnificence of this building seemed to overflow itself onto the smaller, inapplicable business establishments around the brooding, but beautiful business district. The huge, panoramic windows, which almost appeared to individuate themselves, were plastered in a circular fashion on the building, like mirrors reflecting in the sun. The glint from the windows made them appear to emanate their own luminescence. Oh the beauty of this building; cocooned in a heavenly phenomena of both monstrosity and luminosity.

Dr. Fredrich Carroll stepped out of his small Bronset XIX hovercar, escorted by two DataDyne security agents dressed in civilian clothing. They parked in an extensive aboveground parking structure about fifty meters from the north entrance of the DataDyne skyscraper. The Datadyne structures consisted of numerous parking structures, countless entrances, but the significance entrances were marked with the ubiquitous "D" insignia, in which no one mistaken. Dr. Carroll moved gawkily towards the sun-bathed north entrance of the skyscraper with the two agents, with their Maas pistols holstered on their thighs, being keenly perceptive of their surroundings, as they were escorting a high-profile individual to one of the most high-powered CEO's in the United States.

Keeping the burnished briefcase enclosed tightly in his right hand, sweat began to incessantly decant from the doctor's face, the temperature apparently rising rapidly as he neared the entrance. The agents sped up their pace; Dr. Carroll was forced to walk faster, until finally his hand reached the cool, metallic surface of the entrance handle, and it quickly whirled open. The lobby was quiet, and was fairly empty, with an exception of a blonde-haired woman, with copper-toned skin, who was affixed on writing on a bulletin post on the blue-marble-colored wall. The fluorescent lights whirred in a muffled tone, as its rays cast a relaxing, soothing chroma on the walls, floors, and even the ceilings itself. The floors were blue-marble-colored, with a rug emblazoned with the aforementioned "D", which covered about forty percent of the flooring. Directly in front of Dr. Carroll was a lone receptionist. She appeared to be in her early 20's, brunette, brown eyes, very petite. She seemed to perceive Dr. Carroll's stare, and looked up. She smiled brightly, eyeing the two agents side-by-side of him, and she pointed at a lambent, cylindrical-shaped door.

"Through that door, Mrs. DeVries is waiting." The woman continued her plastic smile, and returned to what she was previously tasked with. _Everything is so shiny here_, Dr. Carroll thought, as he passed through the door with the agents. They went up a few flight of stairs, until they reached an upper floor, which was gilded in DataDyne adulation. Rugs with the "D" were everywhere, the walls were emblazoned with the "D". The ubiquity of DataDyne was starting to irritate Dr. Carroll. Dr. Carroll seemed to be embellished in his thoughts when the agents opened a large, blue-marble door, and saw Cassandra DeVries sitting at her desk, with another woman to her left.

Dr. Carroll clenched his teeth as he looked into the bituminous, but starkly radiant eyes of Cassandra DeVries. Her hair was blonde, and she was wearing a blue, business-suit blouse, a black skirt, and had a gold amulet around her thin neck. Her red, slightly-chapped lips, managed to take form of a reticent smile.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Carroll," Cassandra said, breaking the undiluted silence of the room. The golden rays of the sun flowed like a river into the room, spilled on the desk and onto the floor. The woman standing next to DeVries nodded her head at the two DataDyne agents who escorted Dr. Carroll, and they disappeared out of the room. "Good afternoon, Dr. DeVries." Dr. Carroll returned.

Cassandra's eyes drifted towards the woman standing by her desk.

"This is Miss Carla Alvarez, our Head of Intelligence and Security of DataDyne Sector 1", Cassandra introduced. The woman proffered her hand, and Carroll reciprocated, giving her a firm handshake. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor," the woman delivered a seemingly fictitious smile, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. Dr. Carroll sensed this, and knew that they both meant business behind the facade of niceties.

"Wine?" DeVries spurted in a pallid, but interested tone. DeVries spun around in her chair, and opened a small mini-refrigerator. A large bottle of Broadbent wine made its way in DeVries' hand, and she motioned Alvarez and Dr. Carroll to sit on the chairs arrayed in front of the desk. She also proffered three wine glasses, popped the cork, and poured the wine into the glasses. Everything was swiftly, but passionately executed. Professionally to say the least. Cassandra smiled, and irreproachably tapped Dr. Carroll's briefcase with her index finger.

" I want to see what you've gathered from Mr. Carrington for us, Dr. Carroll." Cassandra leaned back, and took a slow sip of her wine. Dr. Carroll's throat began to feel moderately dry, so he also took a sip. Miss Alvarez sensed his discomfort, and she gave another fictitious smile, but this one was much more impersonal.

"Well," Dr. Carroll started, "What we have here is possible evidence that Mr. Carrington currently developing new technologies." He popped the latches of his briefcase, and slowly crept it open, facing the open briefcase at DeVries. The contents in the briefcase consisted of a few high-resolution photographs of what appears to be the overhead, satellite view of hangars, and airstrip, and a close-up photograph, of what appeared to be a small tangerine-sized camera. The other contents consisted of documents and transcripts between the Carrington Institute and other government agencies. Cassandra's smile seemed to fade as she reviewed the contents, thumbing the photographs, and the documents.

Cassandra handed Miss Alvarez the documents after she thumbed through them. The documents itself were gibberish, just presumably vital information written in an encoded computer language. Miss Alvarez's expression expressed disapprobation, and she let out a sigh.

"This isn't all of it, Dr. Carroll. This is only what I perceive as only partial evidence of Carrington's surreptitiousness. Above all, we wanted intelligence on Carrington's proposal of the new communication addendum he was seeking to have reviewed." Cassandra's cold stare made Dr. Carroll's throat even more dry. He quickly took a longer, deeper gulp of wine, and sat the glass down nervously.

"That's impossible. The proposal is there. It's in those documents." Dr. Carroll pointed at the transcripts Alvarez was mentally decoding. "No it's not," She spat, not looking up. "It's not here. He's lying to us, he knows where they are." Alvarez's cold stare transformed into a ominous glare. Dr. Carroll knew what he got himself into. A suicidal mission. For Carrington. And now, he was in bigger trouble than he had anticipated. They discovered the missing piece of the puzzle, and now they were going to get it from him. Anyway they could. What happened next was all a huge blur.

Dr. Carroll attempted to bolt out of the room, indexing a flash grenade from the inner pockets of his suit. Miss Alvarez reacted instantaneously, sporting a V-4 tranquilizer gun from a hidden holster somewhere on her hip. Time seemed to slow down, as he clamored for the door release hatch. He could hear Alvarez pull the trigger, and spit out a nonlethal dart hollowed in tranquilizer that is strong enough to incapacitate a boar. The dart hit him hard on his left shoulder blade, and he can already feel the effects, as the tranquilizer rapidly percolated into his bloodstream. Instant dizziness, and loss of balance came over him like a menacing storm.

He finally, with much great effort, slammed the release hatch until the door swayed open, and through disoriented vision, he could see the figures approaching him quickly. He felt a hard smash against his right shoulder. He realized he was being seized by security personnel. With his index finger still on the pull-ring of the stun grenade, he strived, with heavy effort, to pull it. Before he knew it, he was on the ground, and the voices all around him seemed to become more remote, the fluorescent lights above him fading into void. But he still had his index on that ring, and he, if it were the last resort to escape, that's what he would do. Before his last trickle of consciousness was lost, he managed, with concentrated, but lethargic, to pull the pin, and he felt the grenade literally drop out of his suit.

_Bang! _ He could see the magnesium flare/flash of the stun grenade behind closed eyelids, and the deafening roar that ensued. He suddenly felt an invigoration surge throughout his body, and although severely languid, he was able to stagger to his feet, and get back towards the lobby. His ears were heavily ringing, and his vision was started to become more disoriented. He looked back at the pile of guards and Alvarez, and they were staggering to their feet, blindly trying to seize Dr. Carroll. Dr. Carroll began down a flight of stairs, the fluorescent lights blinding his already severely-compromised sight. He stabbed his hands into his slacks pocket, and felt the magnetic strip of his _Panic _card.

He knew that the panic terminals were situated just outside the lobby, as he mentally noted before entering the skyscraper. He could hear the muffled cries and yells of strained vocal cords of the security and Alvarez, attempting to seize him before he had entered the lobby. D. Carroll was running and staggering blindly, knocking over vases and plant stands, as he heard the rapidly approaching security behind him. _Almost, goddamn it, almost!_, Dr. Carroll said to himself. He felt sweat incessantly pour down his face, blinded by the constant flow of fluorescent lights into his eyes. He staggered into the lobby, and literally hurled himself out of the door, into the north entryway. The panic terminal stood derelict, and sun-drenched adjacent to a few thick columns near the entryway. Having the magnetic card at hand, he was just about to swipe the card feeder into the terminal, when he felt another cold slap, this time on his thigh. The tranquilizer made its way into his bloodstream, and he felt he was going to drop dead at that moment. With one more blast of concerted effort, he swiped the panic card into the terminal before collapsing unconscious, and before he did so, a microsecond of delight crossed his mind.


	2. Defective Closer

_**Chapter 1: Defective Closer**_

_CI Training Exercise, Casablanca_

_Casablanca, Morocco_

_June 23, 2023_

The sweat trickled down Jonathan's face, as laid prone underneath the warm, damp dumpster, the neon lights above him constantly oscillating red and blue lights on the jagged asphalt beneath him. He cursed underneath his breath, as he hated these types of training exercises, especially the ones in the desert. Casablanca was a huge, agglomerated cosmopolitan establishment, efficiently ran by a stable, U.N.-backed government, and pharmaceutical companies. These companies run the medical industry of Morocco, and do it with an iron fist. CasaDyne, a subsidiary of DataDyne, is the largest DataDyne subsidiary in North Africa, and it completely branches itself out throughout the entire continent, and has come to be the _de facto _public industry in many unavailing African countries.

Jonathan hated being cocooned in his thoughts of corrupt politics, especially on an important, but repetitive exercise. His right hand was going numb, as his chest compressed it. He slowly moved his hand free from his chest, and shook it, to get the blood circulating through his hand again. He could feel the medium weight of his AR-34 assault rifle slung around his back, and he could hear the static begin to croak in his right earpiece. A voice came over it.

"Pilty-3, Pilty-3 come in, we are approaching the back alleyway, no signs of disturbance yet."

The voice was a rasp and tired one, a the accent being a mixture of British and Australian. It was Joanna Dark's. Jonathan spoke in a muffled tone into his throat-mic.

"Where have you been, I've been lying here for an hour!" his voice was strained, and he was visibly upset. Joanna had always done this to him, knowingly leave him to cover an alleyway, but she'd always disappear, and never radio in.

The raspy accented voice came over again, "Stop bellyaching, I'm on my way right now, just stay where you are." Jonathan sighed, and his tense muscles were beginning to relax, when he heard a burst of distinct reports, gunfire. Jonathan, neglecting Joanna's suggestion, slid from under the trash bin, and in a low crouch, moved against a damp brick wall, obtusely illuminated by the neon sign above him. He could hear the low hum of the neon lights, and it seemed to dominate his hearing, even though gunfire still let out, a burst of gunfire, from somewhere verging on the dark alleyway to his right.

He slowly unslung his AR-34, and checked the chamber, to ensure that a fresh 5.56x45-millimeter round was ready to dispatch. Jonathan, although it somehow passed below his conscious threshold, noticed that there was a small restaurant right in front of him, obviously not derelict or closed, but the lights were on inside, but he saw no movement. He glimpsed one more time down the dark alleyway, and returned his eyes on the restaurant. Through the fogged, humid windows he could see, what looked like an empty bar, a few tables with red cloth draped over them, and a dartboard, on the back, probably west wall.

This didn't entirely look right, because the lights were on and no one was in sight. A burst of gunfire returned to Jonathan's eardrums, and it emanated closer than before. Keeping his index on the trigger, and his eyes down the alleyway, he began to move, in a low crouch, against the wall, around the corner of the wall, and down the alley. There was another identical dumpster a few meters down, and narrow brick walls made the atmosphere feel dark and oppressive. Jonathan pressed his throat-mic.

"Dark-2, where are you? Dark-2, come in". The second his question was asked, he saw, what appeared to be a dark shadow move across, or past the restaurant front window in his peripheral vision. His eyes shot towards the window, and the looming silence began to be deafening. He could only hear the sounds of his own stifled breath, and then _crash!_ The glass window a few feet from him shattered, and the shards glass seemed to launch its own offensive against him. Another _boom! _ensued, and he could feel the heat of the slug round slap the brick wall next to his face, chipping off brick, and leaving a smoldering pit in the wall.

His confusion quickly subsided when he realized the figure in the trenchcoat wielded a double-barrel, DataDyne-issued shotgun. Jonathan could hear the figure pump the shotgun, putting another slug into the chamber, and before he could squeeze the trigger and kill Jonathan, the distinct burst of fire he heard before, cut through the air like daggers, and the rounds found their home in the figure's back. He let out a muffled scream, and crumpled over onto the broken glass. Jonathan, sitting in a combative fetal position, with his AR at hand, looked up at the medium-build, feminine silhouette, her face obscured by the shadows cast from the entrance of the restaurant. She phlegmatically stepped out of the restaurant, her face exhibited by the red-and-blue-patterned neon lights.

"Jonathan, I told you to hold your position. See what happens when you don't listen?" She sounded almost gelastic, facetious, but there were commanding undertones in her voice. She had her DataDyne-designed CMP-150, with an extended stock and extended barrel, so it appeared more like an assault rifle rather than the submachine gun it really was. She unsubstantially looked at the body, and it was slowly beginning to disappear. The corpse's shape began to take form of a holographic apparition, and then disappeared into a white, metallic nimbus.

"Ahh, Carrington's finest OpFor Simulants, and they couldn't even kill an 'experienced' agent like you." Joanna's face had a light sheen of sweat, her blue eyes dull and reposed. She spat on the ground, and picked up the simulant's shotgun. Jonathan stood up from his position, and picked up his rifle. "You know, since our last exercise, you really haven't opened up the lines of communication. You say one thing, and you don't perform the next." Joanna didn't say anything, she completely ignored him, while she examined the DataDyne shotgun. She laid the weapon back down, and eyed Jonathan.

"If you'd listen to my suggestions once in a while, we wouldn't have this problem. When the real thing comes, you'll be unprepared, and..." Joanna was interrupted by a burst of static both of the CI operatives heard. _Agent Dark, Agent Jonathan_, _we have some developments since Dr. Carroll's involvement with DataDyne. It seems we received a panic signal from him, and we haven't been able to contact him_,_ nor his deep cover contacts he kept information with during those months of intelligence-gathering. We're cutting this exercise short. _It was the voice of an apparently distressed Daniel Carrington. Joanna Dark was feeling apprehension, and a slight dilation. This situation was very dirty.

_CI Institute, Intelligence and Technologies Dept._

_June 23, 2023_

CI technologies director, Grimshaw, was wearing headphones, trying to scramble encoded audio from the information Dr. Carroll gathered the weeks before his distress signal was sent to the institute. Dr. Carroll relayed a plethora of information regarding the physical structure of the DataDyne monolithic skyscraper, organizational technicalities, even the existence of a highly-trained auxiliary defense force in place at the Datadyne headquarters. Dr. Carroll took numerous high-resolution pictures of the skyscraper, its parking structures, and even sketched a detailed layout of the skyscraper's sub-basements, and lower floors. Grimshaw examined these things thoroughly, and he knew with these things, that a well-executed rescue operation would ensue.

Carrington twirled a pen in his hands, as he sat behind his desk, scratching his beard, his eyes distressingly watching the pictures and layouts relaying into his laptop from Grimshaw's console. Joanna and Jonathan sat in front of his desk, wondering who Dr. Carroll is, and the type of infiltration that would supervene.

"Dr. Carroll was our deep cover agent, and my close friend," Carrington said, rotating the laptop to face Joanna and Jonathan. The headshot of an older man, maybe around Carrington's age, pale, with white hair and glasses came over the screen. "He knew what he was doing, and his subsequent capture by DataDyne was foreseeable." Carrington's long and deep wrinkles pulsated, as he licked his lips.

"What was he doing?" Joanna asked.

"He was gathering information about DataDyne technologies. DataDyne is presumably in the works of something profoundly dangerous. And we think it may be in conjunction with MediDyne and CassDyne, DataDyne's largest pharmaceutical and medical subsidiaries."

"Does it have something to do with the rapid spread of pharmaceutical bureaucracy throughout the African continent?" Jonathan asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Possibly. They are possibly working on a new form of mind conditioning, mind control."

Joanna felt her heart drop. If DataDyne could possibly harness the control of others' minds, especially on the larger population, the results can be eerie.

"We're going to get him out right? We have to get him out." Joanna said, with a hint of urgency in her voice.

"Indeed. In addition to his intelligence-gathering, Dr. Carroll has been relaying information about our technologies to DataDyne also. The information wasn't totally illustrious, but it was enough to get DataDyne's gears going."

The screen on the laptop glided over to another picture. This one was a holographic layout of the DataDyne skyscraper, detailed into the upper floors, sub-basements, parking structures, and many points of entry.

"These are the layouts of the major DataDyne structures. The underground parking structures provide a concealed entry into the skyscraper. Security usually isn't tight around there, but once you're inside, it's a different story. Dr. Carroll is more than likely held in one of these sub-floor basements." Carrington reached around, and circled his pen lightly on his laptop, around a light purple holographic schema of detailed squares of the basements.

"Our computer engineers attempted to tap into any radio communication that could be detected in the lower basements, but nothing." Carrington said.

"The walls could be insulated with anti-radio materials, to prevent recording." Joanna said.

"Possibly. Or something could be inadvertently jamming any type of radio assiduity, maybe experiments."

"We have to get in there, and get him out." Jonathan said. Carrington lifted his index finger.

"We have to do this slowly. We can't just go in there guns blazing."


	3. Not My Personality

_**Chapter 2: Not My Personality**_

_DataDyne Skyscraper_

_Somewhere Underground_

His head was throbbing incessantly, and it was getting progressively worse as the harsh fluorescent lights above him shone down on him. Dr. Carroll still had no adumbration of where he was exactly located in the DataDyne skyscraper, but he knew it had to be in some condense, tucked away secretive sector where DataDyne tortured its prisoners. He was a prisoner, and he knew the torture would be perpetual unless he told the dark-haired intelligence officer what he was trying to obtain from the DataDyne building. They already tortured him enough. Blood had encrusted around his nose and mouth, and he had already experienced an onset of paralysis in his right leg due to an electric shock torture device he was fastened to previously.

The DataDyne officers spent countless hours water-boarding him, beating him, and depriving him of sleep. He was determined not to say a word. He was now tied to a chair, in a windowless room, walls made of bare, unpainted cinder blocks. There was a single cot at the edge of the room, the sheets covered with dried blood, presumably his, but he wouldn't remember. Time seemed to stop, and days and nights didn't exist. He had only been in the custody of DataDyne for about two days now, but it felt like an eternity. The door suddenly creaked open, and a tall man stood at the doorway. Carroll couldn't make out his face, but he approached Dr. Carroll, went behind him, and untied him from the chair. He then precipitously frog-marched Dr. Carroll's limping body out of the room and entered an adjacent room. This room was much wider, and a single bulb burned on the ceiling. A high wooden beam was tucked away in the ceiling's shadow, and it reminded Dr. Carroll of an archaic prison.

Another chair was sitting in the middle of the room, and the man abruptly sat Dr. Carroll down, re-tying him once again. Dr. Carroll noticed a few doors hidden in the room's shadows just north of the room. Dr. Carroll felt a chill run up his spine as one of the doors opened; a spindle of bright light seeping into the room. He immediately recognized the person entering the room. It was the dark-haired, brown-eyed intelligence officer from a few days ago. The same officer that initiated and supervised his torture. She returned, this time dressed in a white lab coat, and black jeans. She appeared as if she were a rogue scientist, as the room's shadows cast a morbid pattern of light and darkness on her face. The officer licked her lips as she approached Dr. Carroll, and she stopped, standing maybe four feet from him. Her head was directly below the solitary lightbulb, casting even more demonic patterns on her face.

She cast a fraudulent smile, revealing her unadulterated white teeth.

"How are we doing, Dr. Carroll? I know you're in much pain right now, but it's only temporary."

She leaned over, and gotten maybe three inches from the man's face. Sweat poured down his face incessantly, and she could see the blood-encrusted rings around his nose and mouth.

" I'm not saying a god-damned word. I don't care what you do to me. I'm already used to the torture, you might as well kill me," Carroll spat, giving the officer a menacing stare. She reciprocated, and suddenly catapulted her hand right into Carroll's neck, gripping him as tightly as she can. He gagged loudly, and she watched as he gasped for air.

"I am going to make this very simple, Doctor. I am at my last straw. I am frankly tired of using primarily aggressive interrogative techniques, and I am willing and able to resort to drastic measures. You know something we do not, and it will be in your best interest to tell me what you know. If you do not, I will be forced to use advanced mind control methods to get what I want. Would you like me to propose to you what these methods are?"

The officer loosed her grip around Dr. Carroll's neck, and he gasped loudly, he body struggling for a gulp of oxygen.

"What are they?" Dr. Carroll said, under heavy breathing.

The dark-haired woman pulled out a medium-sized syringe, and grabbed Dr. Carroll under his chin, forcing him to see the syringe.

"This is a new experimental drug, DataDyne has been working on for a very long time. We don't have an official name for it, but guess what it does?" The officer looked at Dr. Carroll and smiled, allowing her question to seep deep into Carroll's brain.

"What?" Dr. Carroll asked, momentarily calmer.

"This removes your personality. It removes all traces of who you are. Your memories, your joys, the things you love, the thinks you hate...everything will be wiped clean from your brain. When this happens, we will input our own moral code, and input your new personality into an artificial intelligence construct we call Sapients. You will help us, and we will ultimately obtain the information we need from you, because essentially, your mind will be ours."

Dr. Carroll felt his stomach and heart turn into thousands of knots, as the woman went into further detail of what this dangerous drug is further capable of doing. He knew Daniel Carrington would attempt to rescue him, but that notion became more and more fleeting, as the dark-haired woman explained in excruciating detail of personality removal.

"...we'll input algorithms into your newly-developed Sapient construct, and you'll essentially be controlled by them, controlled by the people who designed the algorithms. Now, do you want this to happen to you? Or do you want to tell us what you know?"

Dr. Carroll kept his head hung low, and didn't utter a word.

"Fine," The woman said, and stabbed the syringe needle deep into Dr. Carroll's thigh. A world of pain shot through his thigh, and a wave of pain rippled through his entire body. He began to feel instant paralysis, the lights began to fade. He mouth became as dry as cottons, and his neck went instantly limp. The last thing he saw was the saturnine face of the woman, and he'd definitely saw the last saturnine smile he'd ever see her cast.


	4. White Infiltration

_**Chapter 3: White Infiltration**_

_CI Stakeout of DataDyne Skyscraper_

_Nightfall_

Joanna looked over the map once again, and quickly returned her gaze onto the DataDyne skyscraper, about fifty meters away. She was sitting in the civilian hovercar the Carrington Insitute had provided her and Jonathan. She looked over her shoulder, out of the backseat window at another building. The Suljestic Hotel. That's where her and Jonathan had their primary base, just across the street of the DataDyne skyscraper. Here, they could keep an active reconnaissance on the building, note entry points, security presence, and actively find defalcations in what appeared to be normal business routines. She took a deep breath, and returned her gaze at the skyscraper's lower parking lot area, just west of the main entrance. The lot was well-lit, and well-guarded. She could see DataDyne guards patrolling up and down the parking ramps, but they were unarmed.

Cars, and numerous cars, constantly packed the parking lots, all three stories of the parking structure. After a few days of reconnaissance, Jonathan and Joanna assessed that the perfect entry point would be the center parking garage, because according to the holographic and architectural map, there was about six inches of loose concrete that packed the north wall. That concrete was made to conceal a design flaw in the structure, and it led to another subfloor structure, which subsequently led to the ventilation shaft right above the DataDyne second-floor lobby indoors.

Joanna's thoughts were briefly interrupted, when she saw a black transport hover vehicle parked a few dozen meters behind the building. Because of the angle she was in, she couldn't see the details of the vehicle, but she and Jonathan had been watching that vehicle attentively in the past few days. Because Jonathan was in the hotel room, he had a better vantage point.

Jonathan could see the transport vehicle, as it stayed stationary. He noted the DataDyne markings, and two large yellow biohazard placards on either side of the truck.

"Joanna, do you see that truck again? I'm pretty certain that it's carrying some type of medical waste." Jonathan said into the throat mic. Jonathan could see personnel, dressed in white lab coats, opening the hind-doors of the truck, and carrying crates. Not extremely bulky crates, but enough to make Jonathan attentive.

"Yeah, I'm watching the truck now. At the angle I'm in, I can't see much of anything. Tell me what you see, Jonathan."

"There's a bunch of personnel dressed in lab coats, unloading crates with biohazard placards from the truck. They're taking them into some area behind the building, but I can't see anything from this angle."

Jonathan looked down from his horizon scanner (binoculars), and looked at the architectural schema of the DataDyne exterior the CI had designed. According to the schema, this area was restricted, but there was no significant or conspicuous structures, other than a possible loading/unloading bay. But he remembered Carrington had said that this area could possibly be the entrance to an extensive, secretive underground laboratory and research facility, but he wasn't entirely sure. Jonathan and Joanna would find out tomorrow afternoon. Jonathan then saw something that surprised him. As he looked through his horizon scanner, he saw several squads of heavily-armed DataDyne security, armed with CMP-150's with extended stocks and barrels. The squad materialized from the unseen loading/unloading area, and escorted about five personnel dressed in lab coats into the truck. The guards wore ballistic armor, and combat boots, so the personnel they were escorting were of extreme importance.

"Joanna, I'm looking at about eight DataDyne security guards, outfitted with CMP's, combat boots, and ballistic armor. They're escorting about eight personnel...." Jonathan cut himself short, as another transport hover-vehicle arrived at the scene. This transport was identical to the first one, but this one lacked biohazard placards. When it stopped, immediately _another _team of DataDyne security, this time about ten of them, exited the vehicle, with about five more lab-coats. They disappeared behind the bay, as the first group entered the first vehicle, and hovered above and away from the skyscraper, moving south.

"What? What do you see?" Joanna asked, through her throat-mic.

"Another group of troops with an escort of personnel just entered that bay. I'm almost sure that there is something around that bay that is more than we think. We're going to have to investigate."

"First thing's first, Jonathan. I need to establish infiltration, collect, execute." Joanna said, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. She wanted to get Dr. Carroll out of there, but exploring other facets of the skyscraper not part of the operation was dangerous.

Joanna had a small duffel bag on the passenger seat of the car, and dragged across the seat onto her lap. She zipped it open promptly, and checked off the contents in her head, that Carrington provided. The first object she drew from the bag was a small object, rectangular shaped, with a small LCD screen in the center of the metallic object. It was an electronic Data Uplink. Grimshaw had modified it and tricked it out with a special algorithm that was capable of picking up and exploiting computer systems by creating a backdoor, and relaying the targeted information on the system to the CI insitute. Passwords, password-protected documents, files, anything that may be an asset to finding Dr. Carroll, or extraneous snooping, frankly, can be exploited and procured. The Uplink could also be used to temporarily disable surveillance systems, by uploading a virus that spreads rapidly through a surveillance purlieus. It knocks cameras off its live feeds, disables CCTV's, and can also disable an intercom system connected to a surveillance circuit. The next object Joanna drew from the back was a spherical, slick, but extremely lightweight object. It was intensely opaque, and the only content that was remotely effulgent was the small lens that was right on top of the sphere.

This was the CamSpy. These things were astronomically expensive, and Carrington was reluctant to have Jonathan use it on this particular operation. He convinced him that it'll be tactically essential into reconnoitering inaccessible rooms and such. Joanna rubbed her fingers across the sphere. It was made of extremely dense alloys and fiberglass was the main constituent. These were nearly invincible against most forms of handling, but could crumble easily under the force of a bullet or grenade shrapnel. The CamSpy used its own antigrav unit embedded in the center of the sphere, and it also maintained a gyroscopic sensor, that allowed it to detect its physical orientation. It was remote-controlled, and Jonathan would be operating it from his hotel room, aiding Joanna. The next, and last thing Joanna drew from the bag was a DataDyne I.D. and medical bracelet. This operation would be a "white infiltration", which is essentially posing as a DataDyne employee, in order to penetrate the further level of obscurity of the skyscraper.

Grimshaw designed the I.D. card with extreme precision. It was so authentic-looking, that it would never arouse suspicion among those DataDyne personnel that would ask for an I.D. The I.D. also had a magnetic strip that ran diagonally across the back of the card. Grimshaw had trouble designing the strip, because he was reverse-engineering it from a procured DataDyne card. DataDyne changed the design of the cards every month, to stifle this type of engineering. Grimshaw was able to input false networking codes into the digital magnetic strip, so it would run a group of batched algorithms that would precisely and mathematically discern the password the DataDyne building had arranged on its employees' cards. Grimshaw had beat the DataDyne security system, within the confines of a single I.D. Genius.

At the top of the card, her name wasn't Joanna Dark, but "Paula Stavros". Below the name card, written in italics, was the title "Second-Grade Filer". She would be simply filing stacks of papers, _unimportant legal papers_, she thought. Below that, read "Supervisor: Jasmine Van Zandt." Jasmine Van Zandt didn't exist, but it would be sufficient enough for the social engineering of her "co-workers" and other potential threats to the operation. Joanna took another deep breath, and plopped the contents back inside the bag. She reached her hand into the bag, and felt the fabric of the clothes the CI had provided her: A white blouse, black knee-length skirt, black satin stockings, and soft Women's Kensington pumps, also black. _Hmmm, pumps. They could of done better_, Joanna mused mentally.

"Alright, Joanna. Time for some shut-eye. In the morning, you'll make the incursion. Forget about the parking garage point, it's best if you go in through the main entrance. We'll use the garage as a primary exit point if things get hostile." Jonathan briefed.

Joanna yawned, turned the throat-mic off, and let her eyes shut slowly, as the city began to fall asleep.


	5. Quicksand

_**CHAPTER 4: QUICKSAND**_

_DataDyne Skyscraper_

_11:50 A.M. _

Joanna had managed to conceal the equipment in a black purse procured by the CI personnel, and given to her on this essentially rescue operation. She had realized that this was a near-suicidal mission, because her and Jonathan did not anticipate the number of onsite security officers present, not to mention the possible, but largely unseen presence of more advanced, armed guards probably allocated in the conceivable underground basement sector of the skyscraper.Joanna had managed to scamper through initial security checks, and of course, a verification of her I.D. All employees had to go through this, and within twenty minutes, she found herself in large lobby, with dozens of employees bustling through, with coffee and cappuccinos in hand, briefcases, purses, and Joanna immediately felt herself immersed in the white-collar culture.She acted natural, striding with a false sense of confidence into the northernmost area of the lobby. The floors were made of blue marble, with the large, ubiquitous "D" engraved in granite on the center of the floor, stretching approximately twenty feet across the floor.

The lighting was soft, but not cozy. Occasionally, the voice of a woman, with a stern, Western European accent would come over the intercom saying an employees name (i.e. "Stanley Roberts, your supervisor Tim Murray would like to see you"..."Would like more copies of those documents...."file these papers.") This drove home to Joanna that the white collar culture was beginning to become more isolated, and centralized, and employers and supervisors never had to see their subordinates; an intercom system would direct them to their tasks. This made Joanna smile mentally, as it would hopefully disannul any suspicion that could potentially arise, as she makes her way downward to rescue Dr. Carroll. When she reached the northern area of the lobby, a tall streetlight-like structure, stood about ten feetabove the ground, emitted a red laser down at a silver console, with a semi-transparent glass built on top of it. She saw that employees faced their I.D.'s magnetic strip on the laser while they sat their I.D.'s against the glass. A large monitor built on the eastern wallapparently relayed where the particular employee would be stationed for the day; it viewed the floor, and office number.

Joanna stood in line, as it streaked, and before she knew it, she had shone her magnetic strip onto the laser, and the monitor read: _Employee: Paula Stavros. Floor: 5__th__, Office: 84__th__. _Joanna chuckled at the advanced technology DataDyne was clearly flaunting, and walked towards the nearby elevator, it's doors clean and emitting a resplendent metallic blue color. She pressed the button, and the doors whirred open, and she stepped in, with about five other fellow employees assigned on the same floor she was. Joanna closely examined the employees. The first one, that came behind her, was a dark-haired man, probably East Indian, wore a dark suit, and his eyes were bloodshot. The second one, was a shorter woman, blonde, dark eyes, her lips rough and unrefined. She shot a soft, but lazy look at Joanna, and looked away instantly.Joanna, almost by instinct, kept her eyes on the back of her head; something seemed off with the woman, or at least suspicious.

The other three employees seemed to disappear from Joanna's mental radar, and she seemed unmitigatedly focused on this blonde woman. The elevator door whirred closed after a few seconds, and the elevator began to ascend to the fifth floor. The fluorescent light in the elevator seemed to dim for Joanna, and everything began to slowly become off focus, except for the blonde woman. Joanna had this feeling before, and Carrington called it a "dilation", in which Joanna's combat and instinctual senses became "engorged" so to speak. Everything became dimmer, but sharper at the same time. Joanna knew that this particular woman either had something to do with this mission, or she was an undercover DataDyne agent. If this was the case, then DataDyne knows about Joanna and Jonathan, and this whole thing is a trap. Maybe Carrington set them both up, to infiltrate the DataDyne information snake even more. Joanna's thoughts were scratched out, as the elevator stopped and its doors whirred open once again.

The employees stepped out, and headed towards their assigned offices. Joanna took a second to watch the blonde woman go into her office, down a narrow, but brightly-lit corridor_, _office 79. Joanna's eyes moved towards her left, and she proceeded toward the adjacent corridor. The walls were lined with small plants, and paintings, and she spotted a security camera tucked away in the northeastern corner of the room. The camera buzzed and clicked, as its tiny motor whirred the camera chassis on its axis towards Joanna. Joanna took her eyes off the camera, and proceeded to office 84. The door was made of an old type of oak, and this stroke Joanna as peculiar, because everything else in the DataDyne building was made of alloys and high-gloss metal. She used the magnetic strip of her I.D., and the door's lock clicked, and she tried the knob and it opened. She flipped the light switch, and a soft fluorescent chroma illumined the room. There was a single metallic desk, with a computer sitting on it innocently. There was a filing cabinet on the western wall, and she also noticed a small ventilation shaft, presumably for the air conditioning unit, on the top edge of the northern wall.

She stepped deeper into the room, plopping her purse down on the desk, and pulling up the cushioned seat towards her bottom, and she sat. She sat, and allowed the eery silence purge her ears, and she heard and audible click in her ear.

"Joanna, I've got the thermosensor activated in your shoulder. I can see where you are in real-time on my laptop. I'll be able to tell you where you are in relation to everything else." Jonathan explained, as Joanna pulled up the sleeve of her blouse and peered at her right shoulder. The small black sphere with tiny, pinpoint red dot vibrated slightly, implying its active, and monitoring her vitals. It was an ingenious tool the CI had developed. It allowed an offsite agent to monitor another agent's vital signs. If the agent were to be seriously injured or die while on-operation, everyone will be able to know at that point.

"Someone's coming, Joanna." Jonathan said, in a relaxed, but somewhat urging tone.

The door opened, and there stood a tall, pale woman, with long dark hair, and green eyes. She shot a quick smile at Joanna, and stepped into the room. Joanna noticed she carried a large stack of papers. She approached Joanna's desk, and plopped the papers, in a neat column, on top of her desk.

"I'm your supervisor for today. My name is Beth, and my datasheet tells me you're new to the company." The woman proffered a hand, and Joanna shook it, smiling. "Yes, I'm new here. I'm just trying to get acquainted with all the rules and regulations, here." Joanna said, with a soft, innocent tone. The woman detected her tone, and placed a hand on Joanna's left shoulder. "It's okay. We were all new here at one point," Her smile was overly maudlin, which made Joanna a bit uncomfortable. Joanna kept her smile, and her eyes accidentally drifted from her eyes to the column of papers on her desk. The woman saw her eyes drift, and said, "Oh, the papers. You can just organize half of them, in alphabetical order. It's just a lot of legal papers from MediDyne, nothing phenomenally important. I'll check back with you in an hour." The woman smiled on last time, and exited the room, closing the door behind her.Joanna struggled to get rid of her fake smile, and sat back down at her desk. She meddled through the papers lazily. Their was no important content, just legal invoices from the DataDyne subsidiary, MediDyne, invoices, and more invoices, a few legal documents, and a few more important-looking letters.

"Alright, Jo. It's time to get Dr. Carroll out of here. Outside of your office, is another elevator. It's somewhat hidden between to adjacent offices, head east." Jonathan said, his voice slightly whispered. Joanna grabbed her black purse, and started for the door. She opened it, and eyed the security camera once again. It's motor whirred, as the camera pivoted to face Joanna. She turned her back to it, and moved east, walking casually past a few offices, and turned a corner on her left, leading down another corridor. The elevator was half-way down the corridor, forcing her to make a sharp right. The thought crossed her mind, and she wondered why this elevator and not the other one.

"What's wrong with the other elevator?" Joanna whispered into her throat mic.

"Because it's less conspicuous. There are very few employees in the vicinity of this elevator, and you're least likely to be stopped on a floor. Take this elevator to the basement," Jonathan instructed. Joanna moved cautiously, and pressed the button. The elevator whirred open, and she stepped in. It closely automatically, and she pressed the long rectangular button, emitted in a blue light, that read _Basement-Restricted_. The "restricted" part made her heart skip slightly, and she knew she was beginning to delve into the depths of the DataDyne abyss.The elevator descended, and bumped slightly as it commenced its vertical dive. After a long twenty seconds, the elevator stopped, but the doors didn't open. Instead, a small red light came on, just left of the elevator door, on a small panel she didn't notice before. Suddenly, a small LCD screen lit up just above the panel, and read: _Restricted. Authorized employees only. Please flash I.D. on red light_.

Joanna took a deep breath, and produced her I.D. from her skirt pocket. She flashed the magnetic strip on the light. There was an eery silence, and within five seconds, the red light was replaced with a green light, and the LCD monitor read: _Access authorized_. Grimshaw is a true genius. She wouldn't even begin to inquire on how he programmed the damnmagnetic strip with such fail-proof precision.The elevator door swung open with a whir, and she peered her eyes at the partially-dim corridor in front of her. She stepped out of the elevator, and noticed how darker it was than before. She allowed her eyes to adjust, as she cautiously moved down the corridor. Jonathan's voice came over the mic immediately.

"Good, you're in the basement. According to the architecture, there are a quite a few corridors like this one. I'm also detecting two heat presences on your thermosensor. Definitely beyond this corridor, to your left side. They're sitting down."

Joanna moved down the corridor swiftly, but cautiously. The marble floors were sleek, and she slightly lost her footing, but didn't fall. At the end of the corridor, she could see an open doorway, with a small dim light perched above it. The walls were a soft, dark-blue chroma, and she could hear the unmistakable sound of whirring electricity and muffled buzzing. She moved into the next area, keeping her body low. There was a plant posted by the hallway, just as she rounded it, and she used it as cover, as she peeked around to investigate the whirring and buzzing. She immediately noticed a few computer lights, followed by two people sitting down, at a desk. It was a security console. Joanna witnessed other unlit monitors, and another monitor that flickered. There was a woman and a man. The woman had dark hair, wrapped in a bun, and the man was taller, with curly brown hair. They both wore dark DataDyne security uniforms, with the ubiquitous "D" stitched on the shoulder. Joanna didn't have a weapon ready, and she didn't want to stir up unwanted commotion.

So she quietly removed her Kensington pumps (dress shoes), and positioned them in a throwing grip in her hands. She was going to strike the two guards. Joanna sprang up, and approached the console. The two guards didn't notice her, but when they did, Joanna was amused by their priceless facial expression of surprise and disbelief. "Sorry to drop in," Joanna said, and she lobbed a pump as hard as she could at the man first, striking his temple. He slumped back into his chair, his arms gone limp. The woman pivoted in her chair, in a frantic, scrambled attempt to index a panic button. Joanna quickly lobbed the other pump, striking the back of her head. She collapsed over the console, making a muffled crack as her body found its final resting place on the floor. Joanna's adrenaline rushed to her brain.

"Quite a creative way to dispatch them, Jo. Take one of their weapons, and proceed north," Jonathan instructed. Joanna moved quickly behind the console, and unholstered the pistol the woman sported. It was a Maas, silver chrome with a black grip. Classic among advanced operators. She checked the pulses of both guards, just to assure herself they were still alive. She examined the console, and not knowing anything about it, waved it off, and adhered to Jonathan's instructions. She tucked the Maas into the back of her skirt, and proceeded north, walking cautiously, keeping her body low. The next doorway opened up into another corridor, identical to the previous one. This corridor, however, was remarkably darker. She could use the darkness to her advantage, she supposed.

She kept moving, and the area was clear of threats, empty. But she heard the whirring of a security camera, but with no guards at the security console, it wouldn't matter if she was spotted.She couldn't see the camera, and her eyes darted along the tops of the walls, and her eyes found its target. The red light, situated near the lens, pulsated frantically, and this worried Joanna. Usually when lights flicker, it detects motion. As Joanna moved down the corridor, the camera whirred a beeped, tracking her. Someone was watching her.

"Okay, Jo, beyond this corridor, there's a door, on your right. The sensors detect its electronically locked. Use your uplink to hack it, and deploy the CamSpy. I'm detecting plenty of small rooms worth investigating."

"Okay." Joanna whispered.

She moved into the next area, and she found herself in a claustrophobic corridor, insanely narrow. The area to the left was sealed off by a blast wall, and to the right was the door. She unshouldered her purse, and looked through her bag of tricks. She produced the Uplink, and placed the CamSpy on the floor. She felt for the small button under the Uplink. She pressed the button, and the LCD screen of the uplink blinked on. She waited for the small message on the screen to begin the hacking, and when it did, she pressed another trigger-like lever on the side of the Uplink. The uplink clicked and buzzed as it detected the electronic lock of the door, and after a few seconds, the uplink fried the electronic lock, and the door, with a pneumatic hiss, slowly opened vertically.

When the door fully opened, Joanna took a minute to examine the immediate area. There was a wall, with a degraded brown color, in front of her. Possibly made out of wood. The area was dark, and she could see a smaller room just diagonal from where she stood. The CamSpy buzzed to life, and its antigrav mechanism kicked in, and it slowly rose vertically from the floor, maybe three feet. It hovered, and it passed under Jo's legs into the dark room.

"This room is pretty empty, nothing interesting check the room next to this one." Jonathan instructed.

Joanna entered the adjacent room, keeping her body low. Immediately, the unmistakable stench of urine wafted into her nose. Through the dim light of a single bulb burning on a wooden beam of the ceiling, she could see old blankets, towels, and she glanced at the wall to her left. Something was strewn across the wall. Maybe paint. No, it was blood. Definitely blood. The smell of dried blood reached her nose now.

"Jonathan, this room here smells like piss and blood. It stinks. There are blankets and towels all over the floor," Joanna said in a whisper.

The CamSpy, with its muffled whir, whirred into the room, and Joanna could see its lens slightly protruding from its spherical, opaque body. Jonathan was examining the room via the CamSpy. Joanna also noticed a blood-drenched sink on the far side of the room. She moved deeper into the room, and being thoroughly disgusted, she exited the room.

"What's wrong, Jo?"

"The smell," Joanna said. She rubbed her nose. "Let's check the other rooms, there's two more. One on the left, and another on the right." Joanna moved towards the next room, just across from the first. This room was more like a medical office. The lights were fluorescent, and shone harshly on the white-washed tile of the room. The room smelled of mold, and the walls were cast with grime. There were two mirrors on the right side, and a single sink. Upon closer examination, she saw bloody medical instruments: a scalpel, scissors and a small bone-saw, drenched in blood. More blankets, drenched in dried blood and towels scattered all over the place. A small cot sat solitary on the floor, near the exit doorway.

"Damn, what the hell is DataDyne doing? Torturing prisoners?" Joanna asked.

"Exactly. Dr. Carroll was probably tortured in a room similar to these." Jonathan said.

The CamSpy proceeded in front of Joanna, and entered the adjacent room. Joanna followed. This room was identical as the last one, but with more blood, more carnage. Medical instruments were strewn all over the tiled floor. Dried blood was streaked on the floor, along with glass from apparently a broken mirror. There were holes in the walls, and pipes were visible. Joanna and Jonathan knew that this was the just the beginning of the darkness DataDyne harbored, and DataDyne fought to keep these dark secrets away from prying eyes.

"Okay, this is enough. No sign of Dr. Carroll," Joanna said, quite disgusted at the smell, and the sight.

"Let's head for the lower basements. There's an elevator just east."

_DataDyne lower basements_

_13:08_

The CamSpy had whirred slowly out of the elevator, and Joanna was quite disconcerted at the juxtaposition of the differing basement areas. The previous area was dark, and brooding. This area was brightly lit, and the sounds of electronic machinery filled the air. This corridor was quite long, the walls having a dull yellow, complimenting the lighting quite well.

"Okay, the sensors are detecting more guards, and a console. Let me do a little work. Hold here." Jonathan instructed. The CamSpy whirred in front of Joanna, and turned the corner to the left as the corridor broke off. Joanna moved up, and kept her ears open at the edge of the corridor. After sixteen seconds, Joanna counted mentally, she heard the sound of muffled cries, and thuds. The CamSpy whirred back to Joanna.

"What happened?" Joanna asked, implying the thuds and cries.

"I used the tranq's on the CamSpy. They'll be sleeping for another eight hours."

Jonathan snickered slightly, and Joanna flashed a smile.They moved up towards an area that opened wide. The console was on the right side, the monitors flickering and beeping. The two guards were slumped over one another, and Joanna noticed a black rack on the wall behind the console. It was an assault rack and consisted of two CMP-150's, one DataDyne assault shotgun, and one DW-P5 submachine gun. The CamSpy hovered at the side of Joanna, as the two moved up. There was a vertical-opening silver door on the left side, receding into a metallic-red wall.

"Let's check this area out. I'm sure there's someone here that'll help us find Dr. Carroll." Jonathan said. That struck Joanna as peculiar.

"Why would there be someone here to help us?" Joanna asked.

"Just watch." Jonathan said. The CamSpy approached the door, and it detected its motion, and, with a pneumatic hiss, it whirred open. The CamSpy entered first, and Joanna cautiously entered. The room was full of computer monitors, metallic-white walls, and she pointed out several blank monitors, which struck her as odd. The main part of this large laboratory was well lit, the eastern section was dark, damn nearblack. Joanna began to feel the onset of the dilation again. Things began to slow down, and her vision was becoming more hazy. The lights dimming, and her mouth feeling like cottons. Jonathan could see her reaction.

"What's wrong, Jo?" Jonathan asked. Just as he asked the question, Joanna instinctually reached into the back of her skirt, gripping the Maas, and pointed it, in a high-ready stance, at the dark section of the room.

"Joanna, watch your trigger finger." Jonathan warned. Joanna looked at the CamSpy with incredulity and confusion, and a voice was heard from the blackness.

"Hold on, Agent Dark. I'm here to help." The female voice said. The Joanna could see the woman's figure in the darkness, and when she emerged into the light, Joanna immediately recognized her. It was the woman in the elevator with her. The blonde woman. Joanna kept her Maas trained on her.

"What the hell is going on here? Who are you?"

"I'm Valerie Sparks. CI name, Velvet. I've breached most of the security here, but we've got to be quick. Dr. Carroll is in one of these labs. He's a Sapient though." The woman said.

Joanna had never seen her at the CI institute, she's probably a deep cover agent. The woman eyed Joanna, and looked at her Maas.

"It'll be nice if you lowered your weapon, Agent Dark. We must proceed." She said.

"Joanna, lower your Maas. We've got to keep going." Jonathan said, whirling the CamSpy over to Velvet.

The dilation began to subside, and she reluctantly returned her Maas into her skirt.

"Carrington should of told me we had an operative in here. _You_ should of told me, Jonathan" Joanna said, glaring at the CamSpy.

"We couldn't jeopardize her safety. She's breached most of the security here without being seen. Now, let's proceed." Jonathan said.

Joanna felt a sense of betrayal, but it quickly subsided whenthe sudden voice of a Western European-accented woman was heard over the intercom: _Alert! All DataDyne special purpose units report to lab basement sector 4. Unauthorized personnel have been seen, and have incapacitated several onsite officers. This is not a drill. This is a level one emergency. _The intercom was shut off abruptly, and Joanna could feel the blood starting to rush to her legs, imploring her to run.

"We've got to get Dr. Carroll, and proceed to the roof. According to these structures, it'll take the DataDyne team a few minutes to reach this sector. We have to hurry." Jonathan said, as he maneuvered the CamSpy into an adjoining laboratory area, and Velvet followed, watching Joanna. Joanna followed, this time untucking her Maas from her skirt. She checked the slide, and saw the nine-millimeter round already sitting in the chamber. Velvet turned around at the sound of the metallic _click_

"We may not have to use any weapons. If we're fast enough, we can get to the roof without even seeing the team." Velvet said

"I don't care," Joanna retorted. "This is how I operate. I'm going to get Dr. Carroll, you, and Jonathan out of here alive, whether I have to shoot someone or not."

"You are going to get all of us killed! The minute you pull the trigger, those officers are going to have no choice but to fire!"

"You don't know that!" Joanna's voice was high and shrill, her Australian-British accent kicking into high gear. "DataDyne knows we're here, and they're not going to let us out alive with Dr. Carroll! If you would just..."

"Guys!" Jonathan exclaimed through the CamSpy comm unit. "I hear someone inside this lab, it could be Dr. Carroll." Velvet and Joanna looked at each other, and continued through the laboratory to meet with the CamSpy.

"Over there, by that counter." Jonathan pivoted the CamSpy so that it was facing a brightly-lit computer console, completely riddled with keyboards and pulsating white lights. Joanna cautiously approached the console, Velvet behind her.Joanna could hear a faint sound of a voice. It sounded like it was subvocalizing, and it sounds slightly metallic._ What the hell? _Joanna thought. At the side of the console, there was a metallic, effulgent lever, that seemed to control the opening of the console vertically. Joanna held her breath, clicked the lever, and the console apparatus shot open vertically, and a loud pneumatic hiss abruptly shot through the air. Joanna, Velvet, and Jonathan couldn't believe their eyes, as a small, what looked like a laptop unit, rose vertically above the console, and its "lid" opened, revealing a pair of computer-animated eyes behind an LCD screen.

"Hello there, I'm Dr. Carroll. You must be the people from the Carrington Institute." The voice said, in a high-pitched, robotic, intelligent voice.

"Dr. Carroll? What happened to you?" Joanna had a incredulous tone in her voice.

"A DataDyne science team removed my personality. They've redesigned me, and now I'm what they call a Sapient."

The Dr. Carroll sapient whirled around to face the opening of the lab behind them.

"We have to get out of here, my dears. My tracker unit is detecting heavy movement on the few floors above us. There is an elevator to the west. Follow me." Dr. Carroll said, as he floated above the group, and out the adjacent laboratory exit. Joanna followed behind, and the rest followed behind her.

_Accessing the Elevator to Rooftop_

_DataDyne Skyscraper_

_14:23 hours_

Joanna and Velvet could hear the sound of the DataDyne special purpose team moving quickly; the sound of bootfalls and ballistic fabric rubbing against each other frantically. They didn't hear any voices, so they assumed that the team were using hand signals. The escape elevator was only a few dozen meters away, beyond a blue-colored wall. But the DataDyne team was on the opposite side, moving quickly, and strategically to their location.

"You follow closely behind Dr. Carroll, and get to the elevator as fast as you can. I'll cover you," Velvet said to Joanna. Joanna turned around, and returned the CamSpy to her purse. Jonathan was scrambling a CI extraction hovership to the roof from his hotel room. Joanna nodded, and held kept her weapon at a low-ready stance. "Hurry, Miss. We must head for the elevator," Dr. Carroll whispered, in his high-pitched robotic voice.

"Shhhh...." Joanna said blatantly. Joanna edged around the north wall, and peeked around the corner cautiously. She could see about four armor-clad troops, wearing standard ballistic trousers, and a armored headpieces, which covered protected their entire heads from bullets. They also wore protective glasspieces to see out of, and Joanna speculated that they had throat-mics, and intercoms. They moved in a high-ready position, armed with Dragon assault rifles. The "point man" sported a DataDyne assault shotgun, modified with an ACOG tactical scope. They had assumed the classic phalanx infantry position, which provided a cone of fire outward, towards the elevator. The choke point was ridiculously precise, and Joanna knew for sure they weren't going to escape. It would take a hell of a fight. Joanna held her breath, and she could feel the dilation beginning to once again pour into her body. Her eyesight became more sharper, and things began to slow down drastically.Moving her weapon into high-ready, Joanna side-stepped from the corner of the wall, and aimed for the point man.

Before the soldier could react, Joanna pulled the trigger of her Maas, the gun barking loudly, breaking the pristine silence of her dilation. The bullet found its mark, striking the point man directly into his chest. The bullet rocketed him back off his feet, and he fell to the floor quickly. All hell broke loose the minute he fell, the other members of the team scrambling for their aims at Joanna. The sound of collective Dragon fire stuttered and barked, as bullets punched all around her. Everything at this point was slowed down, but after, what seemed like a few seconds, Joanna found herself in the fetal position, squeezing off shots at the DataDyne team, hoping this would suppress them back into the concave.

She could see Velvet and Dr. Carroll get into the elevator, and she could here distinctive shouting, and imploring her to get into the elevator. Joanna didn't pay attention. She allowed her Maas to keep the soldiers back, and before she knew it, the soldiers had retreated into the concave, with the point man scrambling back into the wall. Joanna knew she hadn't inflicted life-threatening wounds to the soldiers, since they were wearing ballistic armor.

"Joanna! Come on, hurry the hell up! Get in, hurry!" Velvet screamed, as Joanna ran into the elevator. Velvet held the door open, then allowed it to close just as Joanna moved in. The eery silence washed over the three, as Joanna could feel her blood pumping into her brain.

"This elevator is going straight up to the roof." Velvet said, awkwardly disturbing the silence.

"Joanna! We're taking heavy fire from the rooftop! There's about seven guys up here with Dragons blasting at us! Get to the roof, so we can get the hell out of here! Jonathan said through Joanna's throat-mic. Just then, the elevator door shot open, and the sound of small-arms fire permeated the pristine late-afternoon air. The chroma of the late-afternoon sun emitted onto the rooftop, giving everything a yellow-orange glaze. Joanna and Velvet ran full speed onto the open hatch behind the dark, sleek CI hovership, Dr. Carroll floating close behind. Jonathan was on a side-mounted machine gun, opening fire onto the western side of the expansive roof, as more and more DataDyne troops amassed on the rooftop. They boarded the ship, and it began to hover high into the air, and away from the rooftop. Bullets smashed into the metallic hull of the ship, and Jonathan kept firing.

"You guys alright?!" The co-pilot asked, looking a bit surprised at the sapient/Dr. Carroll.

"Yeah, we're fine. We should of got out of that quicksand sooner." Joanna said.


	6. The Mantle

_**Chapter 5: The Mantle**_

_G6 Front Corporation Building_

_Seattle, Washington_

_United States_

_Time Unspecified_

Cassandra DeVries twirled the blue ballpoint pen in her left hand, intertwining it between her long, slender brown fingers anxiously, as the blue LCD light of her vidphone began to light up. She peered down at it, leaned closer to see the chubby face of her secretary, Indina Ploymaster.

"Miss DeVries, Mister Easton and his associates are in the building. Do you want me to send them in?" Ploymaster's voice was blithesome, something which DeVries found slightly annoying nevertheless.

"Yes, Indina. Send them up," Cassandra ordered.

Indina's face disappeared from the LCD screen, and the screen went black. Cassandra moved her eyes up to Carla Alvarez's. Alvarez noticed her uneasiness and said, "To be honest, Cassandra, I don't trust that Easton fellow. And I damn sure don't trust that blonde man he's been associated with."

Alvarez adjusted her belt buckle, and resumed her stance, arms folded below her firm breasts encapsulated in a dark, tight-fitting shiny blouse.

"And why is that, Carla?" Cassandra inquired, her bituminous eyes piercing Carla's softer, lighter eyes.

"They seem shady. Easton isn't a big fan of government procedures. Over the years, it's been shown that his internal NSA work is sloppy and remote."

"He's going to get our sapient back. He has the means to do so. We don't. I don't care where his morals are. We need the sapient swiftly returned to the DataDyne corporation." Cassandra said deftly. _My _Corporation, she thought.

"What if we just have an active surveillance of the Carrington Institute, or the Foster Armory Brothers? We have the satellites on geosynchronous orbit right above the Pacific Rim. I can have the technicians over at G9 plug into Carrington's computers, and watch file transfers, install backdoors, keep some eyes on his hangars and—" Carla was cut off when DeVries raised a hand.

"We've already been doing that. Well, Trent has. We have enough information gathered to ascertain where Carrington is, and obtain our sapient. He has a coastal resort on the Taselda Island, ninety miles west of Hawaii. Easton has a team ready to acquire Carrington; he's the only person I can talk to." Cassandra sat the pen down, and impatiently tapped on her desk, awaiting Easton and his associate. Carla seemed perplexed, tilted her head and said, "Why haven't I've been informed about this? I mean...me being the head of Sector One Intelligence, I could of done this an much more."

"I needed an outside source, a second opinion. Yes, Carla, your work here is important, but this is a high security matter we're working on. Do you realize that Carrington had his...his spies infiltrate our headquarters, thwart security, and remove the sapient from a Sector C laboratory? Do you realize what this means?" Cassandra's voice was at a screech, frustrated at the situation she undoubtedly didn't anticipate.

"Yes, Ma'am." Carla said, her voice low and humble. She turned to sit in a cushion chair opposite of DeVries. DeVries straightened her blouse, and also sat down behind her desk. The late morning sun poured into the room, and crawled up onto the shiny walls, casting playful shadows of adjacent buildings and trees from outside. Cassandra loved mornings in Seattle, but this morning, she felt very uncomfortable and disheartened. It has been three years since she was crowned the CEO of DataDyne, and the CEO for all of it's subsidiaries. MediDyne was essential in her crowning. After the superflu of 2016, and her run-ins with Carrington in 2020, she had enough of the spy games and unscrupulousness. Wait....Carrington had turned her unscrupulous. I was ethical, Cassandra thought. Until Carrington's little games made her more aware of outside influences. These outside influences have become more appealing and attractive, with a higher incentive than before.

The outside influences she had ensnared herself in were literally out of this world. These influences could give her the world. Give her the technology and power; much more than other corporations, especially Carrington. Unless, Carrington had also found himself influenced by outsiders. Not from our stars, Cassandra mused mentally. Her thoughts were interrupted by two rough knocks on the office door.

"Come in, Trent." Cassandra said, with a professional kick to her voice. The door opened, and a relatively tall man, wearing a dark suit, walking in, carrying a metallic briefcase. The area around his eyes were naturally darkened, which gave him a brooding, but nevertheless, attractive physical appearance. Charismatic...maybe. His associate...also tall, in his late twenties, with blonde, somewhat short hair. He was extremely pale, very nordic in appearance. He also wore an almost identical suit Trent wore. He also appeared brooding. Cassandra noticed a tattoo on the back of his left hand. It was an "Ichthys" symbol, resembling a fish. Carla Alvarez pulled up two extra seats around Cassandra's desk for the two men to be seated. They nodded politely at Carla, and Trent began opening his briefcase.

"Seattle mornings are a bitch, huh? The mornings make the day seem hazy. I hate it. I hate Seattle." Trent Easton said, his voice deep and charged with energy. He let out a roguish laugh, and peered at Cassandra. "I used to like it. I still want to. I find it hard to enjoy now," Cassandra said, with a heap of veracity in her tone. "What's in the case?" Trent Easton pulled out several high-definition, portrait-esque photographs, of which Cassandra wasn't sure what they exactly were. While he pulled out the pictures, and organized them on her desk, Cassandra motioned the intelligence officer to bring her manilla folder unto her desk. Cassandra looked back down on the desk, realizing what the photographs were.

"Carrington's resort?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes. This is the southwest portion of the island," Trent said, pointing at a section of cliffs that seemed to melt into the moonless horizon. "This is his windmill," Trent pointed at a mammoth, but normal-looking electric-powered windmill. It stood innocently against the dark sky (photos were apparently taken at night), with a few lights lining the propellers to signal aircraft that the structure stood without obstruction. "The trick is," Trent started, looking at Carla and Cassandra, "this isn't just any windmill. It's an electromagnetic disrupting unit. With a built-in radar. We couldn't get our NSA satellites to pick up electronic signals from the mill. So we had to have our people physically on the island, take the pictures, and relay it back to us." Trent chucked. "Carrington is a smart sumbitch. If you want to outdo him, well...you just can't." Trent said finally, giving Cassandra a reprehensible glare.

Cassandra stood up, and leaned close in Trent's face. "Carrington _can _be outsmarted. I need that sapient, by any means necessary. Do you understand, Trent?" Cassandra reeled back slowly, and allowed her words to sink into Trent's mind.

"I understand, Ms. DeVries, but I am at a crossroads. If the Director found out that I was using my power to get what _you _want illegally, he'll have my ass, and will throw me in federal prison."

"I won't allow them to find out," Cassandra said, with slightly less conviction. "Your people that took the photographs...Were they disguised as tourists?" Cassandra asked.

"No. They _are _tourists. They are also demolition experts, intelligence experts, counter-surveillance experts, and operatives of all capacities within the NSA."

"Answer my question."

"Yes." Trent said.

Cassandra cupped her chin in her hand, pondering. "We need the windmill destroyed," She finally said, brashly. Trent stood up quickly, in a professional defiance. "That's nonsense. You can't make a...excuse me..._I _can't make a decision like that, until I have empirical evidence that it's Carrington that has your little toy." Cassandra opened up the manilla folder she had motioned Carla to bring to her desk. She flashed several grainy surveillance photographs of a person, with a womanly figure, seen wearing professional attire, moving quickly through different areas, with a small object either trailing behind her, or to her side. She wielded a weapon a some points, but the earlier photographs indicated she was not armed.

"Who's this?" Trent asked

"That's one of Carrington's spies. She apparently infiltrated _my_ DataDyne headquarters, partially thwarted my security, and made off with an extremely important piece of electronic accessory that is key to the success of DataDyne, and..." Cassandra was interrupted by the blonde man, who grunted something noteworthy. "The sapient is of extreme importance. It contains an algorithm batch that I plan to use later." The blonde's voice was extremely deep, very alien to the perception of what a male voice tends to sound like. "You see, Mister Easton. We need this sapient. And if Miss DeVries suspects Mister Carrington of having it, we must go with her conception." The blonde's dark blue eyes stared at Trent, and after a long interval of silence, Trent said,

"Okay. Fine. I'll help you get the sapient. But you have to promise me that you'll cover my ass politically."

"It's done." Cassandra said, with a slight irascible smile. Trent's face emitted displeasure and reluctance, and he pointed at the surveillance photo. "How are you sure that his woman is connected with Carrington?" He asked

"Because I gave him a call a few days ago regarding the breach. He admitted it. He wants to have a chat with me, but we're going to give him much more than just a chat."

"So...he's _expecting_ you?" Trent said, surprised.

"Yes. But not in this manner. We need to take him by force. He isn't going to tell me anything about the sapient if we sit down and have ice cream. I've dealt with Mister Carrington on many occasions. He loves playing this game, but I play it much better."

"So, what are you saying? You want me take a man that runs the fourth largest corporation in the world hostage? With what? Some private military group I can just assemble?"

"Yes. How about your Lambda Team?" Cassandra asked, giving Trent a dark look. Trent, stammering, tried to find the right words. "L-L-Lambda Team isn't part of the NSA. They're contracted with Chesluk."

"But, If I understood correctly, you are good friends with Bob Landon, the CEO of Chesluk. You can have him get a team in there, and remove Carrington forcefully." Trent was sweating profusely, extremely unnerved with the surmounting pressure and political implausibility he'd face if he were caught doing this treacherously illegal operation. "Listen, Trent. I know you can make this happen, so do it. I already told you that you'd be fine. I have my professionals in the legal system of DataDyne that will have you covered." Cassandra still gave Trent a dark look. Cassandra looked more closely, and can see Trent had the most unscrupulous slight smile she'd ever seen on him.

"What's in it for me?" Trent asked, still sweating.

"Down payment of two hundred-thousand dollars. I will pay you the remaining eight hundred-thousand once you have Carrington bound, gagged, and blindfolded in my interrogation room. How does that sound?" Carla Alvarez, her mouth agape, gave Cassandra a displeased stare.

"Ma'am! You haven't even discussed this with your lawyers! This is..."

"Shut up, Carla!" Cassandra squealed, giving her a bleak stare.

"That sounds like a deal." Trent Easton said, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "Unfortunately, I have to get going. I'm sure my associate would like to have a few words with you before we leave." Trent said, patting the blonde man's shoulder. Trent strode out of the office with a million-dollar, but nervously-wrecked smile.

"Miss Alvarez, can you step out for a moment, while I speak with this gentleman please?" It wasn't a question, more like a demand formulated into a question. The intelligence chief nodded, and left the room unceremoniously, still upset at Cassandra's outburst.

"Okay. Tell me when Trent is going to have the Pelagic II." Cassandra demanded.

"He needs a proposal from the President. He will get it. But _you_ need to have the sapient in our possession in order for me to give you what you want." The blond man said, his voice extremely deep, and rough. His brooding stature over Cassandra was violent and oppressive, and she felt the need to extend her arms, and move away from the man, but it was too late. He already had her pinned to the wall.

"If we do not have the sapient, you can forget about having a piece of _our _technologies. Understand?" He loosened his grip, and strode out of the office.


	7. Bargaining Chip

_**Chapter 6: Bargaining Chip**_

_Carrington's Villa_

_Morka Hotel: Few miles East of Carrington's Resort,_

_Pacific Islands_

_8:45 P.M.

* * *

_

Joanna's eyes began to shudder sporadically open and closed, as waves of consciousness began flooding under her eyelids. She tried moving her languid arms closer to the edge of her bed, but she couldn't. The spell of her deep sleep was unrelenting. She could see the blood under her eyelids as the sun illuminated them from across the room, shining deeply towards her. Finally, with great effort, she was able to coerce her eyes open. Sleeping on her side, she could see the sunlight's reflection against her glass table night-stand, and in that reflection, she could see a shadow, unstirred, standing behind her, almost right on top of her.

"Wake up, Jo. You're a heavy sleeper." It was the voice of Jonathan. He'd slipped into the room. "I didn't want to wake you. Have you always been a heavy sleeper?" Joanna ignored him, and mustered the strength to sit upright at the edge of her bed.

"What do you want, Jonathan?" Her voice was strained and lapses of fatigue in its reverberation throughout the room. She was able to stand up, and face Jonathan. "Is this one of your games again?"

"No." Jonathan said. He didn't shave today, and the stubble seemed illuminated by the overpowering sunshine that seeped into the hotel window. He was dressed in blue jeans, and sported a leather jacket.

"Then why are you here? Is there something wrong?" Joanna inquired, and she grew slightly uneasy, as the expression on Jonathan's face became more sour.

"Well, I've been reassigned. I'll be doing more undercover work now." His expression turned more delighted, and Joanna smiled back.

"Congratulations! Undercover work? How did Carrington get you chopped up for that?"

"It was the mission we did days ago. He saw the potential in me," He chuckled, and continued, "He told me he has a lot in store for _you _though." Joanna took the news with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Oh really...What did he say?"

"He didn't tell me. He said you would know when it happens."

"Okay. Well, I'll meet you downstairs. I need to shower and dress."

"Okay." Jonathan left the hotel, and Joanna was standing alone with the sunlight. The Talseda Island was beautiful. It was a few miles off the coast of California, and it was Carrington's top resort. The tourist economy of Talseda was chiefly based off of Carrington's expenditures on the island, which included his cavernous villa, dead-center on the island. Tourists would arrive to see his villa, and it had become the island's landmark. Carrington based many of the Institute's secondary and tertiary technologies in the villa, where he kept vast amounts of informational and security databases underground. Joanna suspected that was where Mr. Carrington hid Dr. Carroll, but she didn't go deep into that.

She entered the bathroom, and began drawing water from the showerhead. She undressed, stepped into the warm shower capsule, and allowed the water to seep deep into her skin. She hadn't had a good shower in a long while, and this was the perfect opportunity to relax and unwind. She knew it was the best for her, because she'd let her mind get the best of her if she didn't. Being in the shower inundated her mind with good and bad thoughts and memories. The memories of being a bounty hunter for Dark Bail Bonds crossed her mind like a holographic projection. Her times with her father. Hunting down the criminals of the British underworld for years. Taking down powerful gang members of China. Those types of thoughts flooded her mind.

After her shower, she quickly dressed in–more or less–mundane clothes, nothing fairly vacation-like. She sported Adidas sneakers, loose long-pants, and a tank top. She took a glance at her travel bag sitting on the floor, and she managed to glimpse at the yellow glint of her Falcon 2 pistol slipping out of the bag. She turned around, and headed out the door, down the long hall that had a pinkish illumination due to the sunlight, and to the elevator. Everything seemed mundane as possible. Tourists, kids running around, the ambience of laughter, and chit-chat. The elevator descended to the lobby floor, and she disemelevatored, seeing Jonathan and Sandy View, an CI computer tactician chit-chatting, smiling. Jonathan peered at Joanna, and motioned her to come to him.

"I was just talking to Sandy about my undercover promotion. She tells me she has the inside scoop on what Carrington may have me do. It's rumored about me being deployed as an asset, working deep inside DataDyne." He smiled, looked at Sandy, then at Joanna. Joanna returned the smile, and looked beyond Jonathan's shoulder at the coffee machine.

"I'm going to grab some coffee. Why don't I meet you two at the breakfast house." Joanna said quickly, moving past Jonathan, patting him on the shoulder. She moved to the coffee machine, put in two quarters, and a cup, along with two coffee bags, dispensed into the outward slot. She bent over, grabbed the coffee and cup, and suddenly, the onset of her dilations began to come. Her peripheral vision widened, her blood pressure and heart rate increased. Her skin became warmer. A sickening feeling arouse in her stomach, and then subsided—it all subsided as quickly as it started. She used the coffee dispenser's warm water to fill her Styrofoam cup, and poured the coffee beans into her coffee, stirred it with her index, and walked outside, across the poolyard, into the breakfast house. She basically shouldered her way through the hordes of people standing in line, kids running rampantly, raucous laughter filled the halls and eating areas. She saw Jonathan and Sandy sitting at a table off to the side, secluded from everyone else.

She moved towards the table, and sat down. "How's the coffee?" Jonathan asked. Joanna ignored his question, and said, "I feel like we're being watched." Sandy chuckled. "Well sweetie, there's a bunch of folks in here. Somebody is bound to be watchin' us." She had a southwestern American accent, probably from Texas or Georgia. Her teeth were not white, and had shards of decay. Overall, she was an attractive, forty-something woman, dark-brown hair, and had a sparkle in her eyes.

"No, no. Not that kind. I mean watched. By someone who shouldn't be here."

Joanna could see Jonathan's expression transform into something sort of paranoid, reflexively looking over his shoulder. Sandy picked up on this and did the same thing. Both knew that when Joanna had these types of instinctual feelings, something was definitely wrong.

"You think it's DataDyne?" Jonathan asked. With a short interval, Joanna finally said, "I hope not."

* * *

Dana Rosenly watched the three Carrington agents, as she drew on her Broston cigarette. She was inside the smoking booth, just several hundred feet from the main breakfast house, overlooking the poolyard. For the most part, she had her eye on the two agents; the tall, dark one and the older woman. The red-headed one joined the two at the lobby, and then moved into the breakfast house. At intervals, people blocked her view from the agents, but she was able to have a hawk-eye view of them. They seemed to become slightly rattled, looking over their shoulders, and around the breakfast house, as if they suspected her. _Damn, I hope they didn't see me. Did they see me? _Dana thought.

Her plan was to take the red-head by gunpoint, and bring her to the LXI limo parked nearby the hotel. She would have to dispose of the older woman and the man–that is–if they got in the way of the operation. She drew in her cigarette one more time, picked at her cream-cheese bagel a few more times, and observed the agents. _I'll have to get them when they're back is turned. I don't care about being seen with a gun, _She thought. She zipped open her purse, and looked at the grainy surveillance picture once more. Yeah, this was the girl Easton wanted. After a few more minutes of being on edge, Dana began to relax as the three agents stood from the table, and moved out of the breakfast house.

She gripped her MagSec 4, which was tucked in her purse, and slowly drew it out, keeping it out of sight from possible onlookers. She wore sunglasses, her hair was in a ponytail, so she wouldn't draw much attention, even if she wanted to. As the three agents began having their backs towards the house, the older woman being the last one trailing behind, she sprung into action. With her MagSec drawn to her side, she calmly stepped out of the smoking booth, went down a small flight of stairs, and out of the panoramic glass doors the house used as the entry. She walked quickly, but steadily towards the older woman, and when she was close enough, she drew the pistol, and placed the muzzle hard on the back her skull.

"You two, Stop now!" Her voice was shrill and boom, and reverberated throughout the poolyard. People were already starting to shrill with panic, others just stood paralyzed, watching the scene unfold. The red-headed girl took a defensive stance, and the man mirrored her. Dana held the older woman's head to her chest, the muzzle of her MagSec held to her temple.

"Oh, please! Please! Don't shoot me, I–I–I don't know what you want!" The older woman's cries of fear started turning into babbles of pathetic wining. "Shut the hell up! You two, hands up, or I will shoot the old lady." The two agents complied reluctantly, their faces displaying diminished surprise, but overwhelming defeat. Dana, with reflex and honed close-combat deftness, knocked the old lady unconscious by slamming the butt of the MagSec against her skull. She crumpled to the concrete ground, with a muffled cry.

Dana resumed a high-ready stance with her pistol. "You, go back to your hotel room." Dana said, with a twang in her voice which was reminiscent of procedural commands of a police officer. The tall agent, backed away slowly, hands still in the air, into the lobby. "You, come with me," Dana took the red-head's shoulder, and frog-marched her towards the breakfast house.

"What the hell do you want from me?" The red-head asked. She had a distinctive Australian accent, riddled with British tonality. "I work for Mr. Easton. You're going to help us." Dana said. Dana pressed the MagSec's muzzle into the back of the red-head's skull, to signify she meant business.

Two other men, wearing civilian attire, but appeared military-esque, sported suppressed CMP-150 submachine guns. They approached Dana, and without saying a word, grabbed the red-head, and continued frog-marching her through the breakfast house, and out of the back exit. Crowds of spectators formed, but the screaming had mostly stopped, probably assuming that the red-head was a fugitive and the people with guns were the police. After walking a few hundred feet, a black SUV-style limousine hovered nearby, and floated, in park-stance near the facade of the hotel. The tinted windows were closed, and a door swung open.

"Get in," Dana said, pushing the red-head into the backseat of the vehicle. Dana and the two men entered the forward section of the limo before it floated towards the cloudless sky.

* * *

Joanna was handcuffed by another man sitting next to her. He asked if it was too tight, but she didn't say a word. There was plenty of leg-room and the space that divided herself and the man in front of her, facing her, was comfortable. The man was tall, dark hair, and even darker eyes. He sported a suit, and his forehead was greasy.

"Do you know who I am?" The man spoke. His voice deep and penetrating. Joanna was compelled to answer him. "No. What do you want from me?" Joanna said.

"Well, I'm Trent Easton, National Security Agency advisor. You must be—" He peered down at a few stacks of papers he carried on his lap —"Joanna Dark. Best operative in the Carrington Institute." He allowed his statement to sink into her head, and he could see the surprise illuminate her face. "Well, Miss Dark. We suspect that the agency you work for has illegally obtained a device that is of utmost importance to the National Security of the United States. Do you understand?"

"No. I don't know what you're talking about." Joanna knew what they were talking about.

"Does this refresh your memory?" Trent placed a photograph on Joanna's lap, and she recognized herself, in the DataDyne labs, with the CamSpy, moving about with Velvet. It was a grainy surveillance photo, but clear enough to discern her hair color and basic facial features.

"Yes, this is me. I had no idea what I was doing was illegal."

"Well it was. And we have Mister Carrington in our custody as we speak, at his villa." Trent allowed his statement to sink in, and Joanna realized her part in this growing web of conspiracy: she was the bargaining chip.


	8. Rescuing Carrington

_**Chapter 7: Rescuing Carrington**_

_Carrington's Villa_

_Talseda Island_

_Evening Time_ _Approaching

* * *

_

Joanna had been fed, and was allowed time to sleep by her captors. They weren't from DataDyne; Joanna conjectured they were either an obscure N.S.A. assault team, or worse: private military contractors that this "Trent Easton" hired. It was clear that they ransacked Carrington's villa, finally found him, and have him held at gunpoint somewhere on the villa, forcing him to tell where Dr. Carroll is located. Joanna played both the negotiator and bargaining chip. The evening sun seemed to climb down below the horizon, as Joanna lifted her head up to the window of the PaveHawk dropship. She could see the villa in clear view. The cliffs surrounding it appeared barren and inhospitable. The sea, which was located west of the villa, appeared even more treacherous. The monolithic proportions of the villa reminded her of Carrington's entrepreneurial spirit, and hoped that he would be strong enough to pull through whatever they were doing to him, probably torturing the hell out of the man. Joanna's aching head slumped against the dropship wall, and her eyes closed.

A pristine moment of clarity washed over her. And with that, a realization: She was the one that had to get Carrington out. God knows where Jonathan is, and Velvet is probably ignorant of this entire situation. Joanna marked these words in her mind, and they reverberated throughout her body: _I WILL get Mister Carrington out alive_.

The dropship went into a hover, and was fast approaching a large docking area of the villa. Joanna peered outside the window, and could see two men, dressed in black commando-style attire, and sported CMP's. The dropship finally landed, and immediately, the dropship door slid open. One man, grabbed Joanna from her arms, and pushed her towards the door.

"This is the girl?" One of the men outside said.

"Yeah, that's her." The man from inside the ship said. He shoved her once more, this time she collided onto the asphalt. Another man helped her up, and frog-marched her across the villa's main deck, onto an outskirted area, as best described as a large sandbox. There were more armed men, wearing commando-style uniforms, and Joanna realized that they weren't NSA: They were contractors. She could see the shoulder emblems of the commandos, and it read: _Lambda_. _Ok. So they're Lambda. Never heard of them_, Joanna thought as they continued frog-marching her. When they finally reached the large lot of sand and dirt, she noticed a large ditch dug. It was about six feet wide, six feet deep, perfectly dug. Then it hit her like a baseball striking a fence at twenty miles per hour: This was her grave. They were going to _kill _her.

"On your knees," One man said, angling his CMP towards her. Joanna complied, facing the grave. The onset of the dilation began kicking in. But this was different. Instead of her senses becoming expanded, they shrunk. Her peripheral vision died. Her breathing slowed, instead of increased. She wasn't sweating. The tunnel vision of her's began slowly focused on that unmarked grave. An ugly way to die. Executed. Forever forgotten. She could hear the men talking, but she paid no attention. They just sounded like vocalizations. She did, however, catch the words, "Carrington....." "Dead...." and "No longer....". But they didn't mean anything to her. Time slowed even more, until it stopped. It dead stopped in its tracks. The sun stopped descending. The talking stopped. Her breathing stopped. She was certain she was already shot, and her body was lying in this ditch, but her soul just observing. Observing nothing. As time creaked like floorboards in its stagnant state, she felt something warm, and wet splash against the right side of her cheek.

She could see drops of it slowly floating towards the sand beneath her. It was blood, but was it her blood? She then heard distinctive, muffled cries of pain, and the sound of impact. Multiple impacts, at a steady rate. Those sounds were all too familiar: bullets striking human flesh at a distinct sound. Almost like marbles thrown at Plexiglass at a high rate of speed. With her diminished senses, her mind put the puzzle pieces together, and she realized that the men around her were shot. Time slowly began to move again, and her breathing increased. She stood up, and looked around her. The mercenaries that had held her captive were all dead, strewn about the sand-filled lot, blood streaked under the bodies. Joanna finally, with concentrated effort, snapped out of the dilation, and reflexively possessed one of the fallen mercs' CMP's.

Was it God that had saved her? Saved her from a sure death? She looked up towards the sky, and thanked whomever saved her, and then, consciously scanned the high-lying surrounding cliffs that encapsulated the villa. She knew there was no God, and obviously someone had picked off the guards. Jonathan? Probably. She wouldn't know how he found her, but she didn't care. With the CMP in hand, she dashed towards the main deck, and as she approached, gunfire spat at her with a vicious bite. Bullets punched into the sand behind and beneath her, and she used the lower half of the protruding deck as cover. She could hear shouts, and as she saw figures approaching her, guns at high-ready, she fired first. She fired in bursts, because the recoil of the CMP was a bitch. The three figures toppled over on the deck, and the stench of fresh blood penetrated her nostrils.

She moved past the bodies and returned to the deck, moving in a low crouch. The sun was descending quickly under the horizon, and shadows were becoming more apparent. Her senses in full gear, and full of adrenaline, she approached the opening of the front entryway of the villa. Instead of using the door, she crept in through the window, lying low. The inside of the villa was made of pure wood, including the floor. She could see, in dim light, furniture arranged in a combative manner, dressers toppled over, as to provide cover for the mercs in case something like this happened. The stillness of complete silence wracked her ears, and she knew something was wrong. In a low-crouch, she approached a flight of stairs, ringed with a thick, red banister. She carefully moved down the steps, keeping her CMP trained on the lower floor.

With the brashness of steel clashing with steel, and large explosive boom echoed from just outside. The shock wave caused the windows in the villa to break in unison, and Joanna fell from the stairs onto the floor. Another massive shock wave shook the villa for a good five seconds, and then it settled. Joanna could immediately hear the roaring engines of hovercopters. But they didn't sound like this. Joanna, returning to her feet, grabbed her fallen CMP, and looked out of one of the blown-out windows nearby. She could see what exploded: The large windmill, several hundred meters away, which provided electrical power to the lower basement, and power to the villa itself was alight, embers falling onto the ocean, its large turbines battered and aflame. From the corner of her eye, she could see something fast approaching the villa. It was an assault hovercopter; modified hovercopters which were much faster, much louder, and had forward-mounting machine guns on its nose.

Joanna moved from the window, and quickly rounded a thick wooden wall, that separated two rooms. Now with the entire villa in near-blackness, she had to rely on her familiarity with the villa in order to find Carrington.

* * *

Jonathan was able to eliminate the mercs holding Joanna at gunpoint with a modified SLR-26 Foster-issued sniper rifle. Designed for chiefly night-sniping, it packed a recoil that made Jonathan's shoulder hurt. He watched Joanna move into the villa from the perfect vantage point of the overlooking cliffs surrounding the villa. He slung the rifle around his shoulder, and moved quickly down a small, forested path several hundred meters from the villa. He saw the hovercopters destroy the windmill, cutting off all electricity to the villa, and he was on his way down towards the villa. With a Maas pistol at hand, he used the shadows to his advantage, approaching the south side of the villa. The hovercopter probably descended, and released several dozen mercenaries by now, but Jonathan was trying his hardest to get into the villa, and find Joanna.

With his throat-mic activated, he pressed it, saying, "Velvet, this is Juliet Niner, are reinforcements on the way?" Velvet, who was at the Institute, was able to intercept Jonathan's distress call from the resort hotel after Joanna's kidnaping. She immediately called in a team to the villa, but because of the unorthodox circumstances, she wasn't able to scramble a team in time. "Yes. On the way. Keep an eye out for a DragonShip. We have two squads en route, ETA three minutes." Three minutes seemed such a long time. Jonathan hoped three minutes would come quick.

His thoughts were immediately interrupted as a few of those Lambda mercenaries came into his view. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, his Maas barking loudly. He saw one mercenary take a round high in the chest, another one took around in the neck. They dropped, and in retaliation, two other mercenaries fired sustained rounds at Jonathan. He took cover at a piece of concrete jutting out from the broken sliding-glass door. More rounds punched the concrete, succeeded by shouts and the barking of orders. Jonathan peeked around, and fired more rounds. Knowing the rounds didn't find their proposed homes, he moved through the broken glass door, running as fast as he could to a piece of furniture he found knocked over. He took cover behind the overturned desk, and as the mercs approached the door, Jonathan double-tapped rounds into each of the mercs, each round hitting center mass.

They fell over on each other, and Jonathan let out a sigh of relief. But that would come to no avail. He felt bullets punch around him, striking the overturned desk, splintering wood and pieces of cloth from the couches behind him. He could see two mercs sighting in from his right side. They sported laser sights, which gave away their position. Jonathan crawled to the other side of the desk, resuming his cover stance, and fired the Maas, hitting the mercenaries in a perverse unison. They toppled over, and Jonathan cautiously approached the bodies. He wanted to see who the hell he was fighting. He took one of the fallen mercenary's DW-P5 submachine gun in his possession, and peered, through almost pitch-blackness, at the dead merc's shoulder patch. _Lambda, _it read, and had an insignia of a silhouetted man riding a bull. The man wielding a shotgun. Jonathan had heard of this Lambda team before. They were a private military company, specializing in fast-attack operations. They were headed by a man named Bob Landon. Lambda was contracted with the Chesluk company for years, tasked with private security. These facts washed over Jonathan's consciousness in milliseconds.

After looking at the dead merc's insignia, he sprinted towards a dark flight of stairs which was located just in front of him. He had the DW-P5 in high-ready, it's laser sight penetrated the blackness like a hot knife through butter. The raging inferno of the windmill maintained a screen of background noise, but he also heard the _whomp, whomp _of the DragonShip. Jonathan pressed his throat-mic. "Velvet, this is Juliet Niner, the drop ship is here. Direct them to the south side of the villa." Jonathan's face was inundated with sweat, and he was out of breath. "Roger that, Juliet Niner, directing them to the south side." Jonathan continued moving cautiously in the darkness, his laser the only source of true light, besides the moonlight penetrating the ruptured windows of the villa.

Joanna was able to reach the basement, with little resistance. The back-up power had to have kicked in, because it was flooded with fluorescent lights. The halls were particularly dark, oppressive, quiet, and had a dank smell to them. With her CMP in high-ready, she approached another door to her left, and with a mental _1..2...3, _she kicked it in. She moved in, keeping the gun trained wherever her eyes went. She recognized the large room, and she recognized the columns and columns of large cabinets, with wine bottles placed impeccably in their respective slots. _The wine cellar_, Joanna thought. She kept the CMP in high-ready, ready to kill anything that moved. Moving in deeper into the room, she noticed another door up ahead. She sprinted to the door, and with another mental _1...2...3_, she kicked the door open, and trained her weapon on the person that was sitting in the center of the room.

She had it in her instinct to pull the trigger, but her conscious mind stopped her. The man's face was bruised, bloody, and hardly recognizable. He had his hand tied around a chair, he was shirtless, and bleeding. It was Daniel Carrington. Joanna, at the sight of him, dropped her CMP with a loud clank. She ran towards Carrington, and pushed his face up.

"Carrington! Mister Carrington, can you hear me?" Her voice was pleading, and imploring. "Carrington, Daniel, can you hear me? Please, sir, wake up...wake the hell up!" She shook him, and his head just slumped low. Was he dead? "Carrington, please, wake..." Carrington groaned, and his eyes slowly opened. "Mister Carrington, are you alright?" He groaned more, as Joanna went behind him, and began untying him. Blood had encrusted around his bruised eyes, his lips, caked with blood.

"I'm afraid I'm okay, Joanna." He finally said. He voice was low, and fatigued.

"You don't look okay. What've they _done _to you?" Joanna held Carrington's face up, tears welled up in her eyes.

"Oh dear, don't cry. I'm going to be fine. But they took...they took Doctor. Carroll."

"I don't care about Doctor Carroll, sir, I care about you. Did they want to kill you?"

"No. They wanted Doctor Carroll. I gave in. They threatened me with mind control."

Carrington was able to stand up with the help of Joanna.

"Are you ambulatory?" Joanna asked

"Yes, I believe so." Joanna was startled when she saw Jonathan at the doorway, wielding a DW-P5. He looked as if he saw a ghost, but it was Carrington.

"Is he okay? Of course not, he's been brutally beaten." Jonathan said, helping Carrington out of the cellar. "Jonathan, is the villa secure?" Joanna asked.

"Yes. A squad from the CI is securing the upper floors."

"You know, I set myself up for this," Carrington said, his voice still low "I needed to. I needed more information about DataDyne's future plans."

"Don't worry yourself about Datadyne, Mister Carrington. You need medical attention, that's all you need to worry about." Joanna said.

"No, you don't understand. Datadyne planned this whole operation, and I was a part of it." Jonathan, and Joanna both looked at Carrington with incredulity.

"How do you mean, sir?" Jonathan asked.

"I'm sorry I put you two through this." Carrington said, he was able to walk, without any help, out of the cellar. Joanna and Jonathan both looked at each other, not knowing what Carrington fully meant. But Joanna knew. She knew that Carrington had used the both of them. As pawns. And she was upset.


	9. A Much Harder Approach

_**Chapter 8: A Much Harder Approach**_

_Halcyon Train Station,_

_DuPage County, Illinois_

_Tuesday Night

* * *

_

The cold, heavy, and incessant rainfall stung Joanna's face, as she moved promptly through the crowds of people anxiously awaiting the next hovertrain to sweep down and through its rails. The neon lights from the austere buildings behind and above her shone a jagged illumination onto the equally jagged asphalt below. The rain was now stinging her eyes, forcing her to keep her eyes shut at long intervals, while her ears throbbed at the loud, dissonant pounding of Industrial music from a nightclub a few streets away. The streetlights, in conjunction with the neon lights, excessively over-lit the train station, leaving the crowds of people resembling small insects under the observation of a brilliant, magnesium flare. It was disturbing, and even more disturbing was the nonstop, cold downpour that wouldn't stop its tyrannical wrath.

Carrying her heavy rucksack, she stopped moving, and allowed herself to catch her breath, heavy amounts of precipitation-drenched oxygen clogging her lungs. She coughed a few times, and looked up at the sky. The moon, a silver-white patch in the sky, loomed with overwhelming grossness, and had somehow, inflicted a dictatorial impression on Joanna's mind. She didn't know why. _Well, at least you're not Carrington_, she thought to herself. The rain was agitating her to the point of sheer contempt for it, and even though she didn't smoke, she craved a cigarette. Badly.

Suddenly, a _whoosh _sound flooded the streets with a pounding ferociousness, and she could see the luminous front-section of the hovertrain arrive, it's long, snake-like appearance danced its way onto the structured monorail sixty-feet above. The crowd immediately began making their way up the metallic catwalks, situated on either side of the monorail, outcropping from it at all angles. She blended into the crowd, and allowed it to "push" her up onto the monorail platform, and then into the train. Public transportation was free, as long as you traveled within the Chicago city limits, but once you ventured out of Chicago, paying was a must. Usually, it was only an extra five dollars.

Joanna was able to find an open leatherbacked seat, and she was able to allow herself some much-needed rest. Her hair and face were soaked, the water absorbing onto the leather-back seat under her head, giving her another, vicious shudder. As the people in the train began to settle, and quiet down, the hovertrain started its electric motors, and began quickly speeding down the light rail, the sudden lurch of momentum making Joanna's stomach turn. The process of sleep began flooding over her body, first her legs and then up to her eyelids. The process was rapid, but she stopped it abruptly, as she remembered something important. She shot open her eyes, and dug deep into one of her trouser pockets. There, she produced a thick, elongated booklet, a catalogue of a sort. _De'Mazzio's Catalogue of Bounty Hunters_. That's what was emblazoned in dark, bold ink in the front page of the catalogue. She thumbed it open, thumbing through the crinkly, dilapidating pages of the catalogue. On page _54_, a random page she had turned to, she noticed the year of the catalogue at the top of the page: _Issue: Feb. 2023._ A bit too late to begin venturing into the bounty hunting business again. A name was ringing in her head suddenly. It was a memory she had promised to keep with her. She thumbed to the _C _category of the catalogue. She ran her index finger down the page, until she found the name she was looking for: _Chub-Yiba Bail Bonds–Personnel: 40—CEO: Colonel Misori Mitsubishi_. A smiled produced across her face.

She reached into her other trouser pocket, and produced her cell phone. She dialed the Chub Yiba Bail Bonds number into her phone, programming it into the phone's phonebook, and began to slip it back into her pocket. It vibrated suddenly. She returned the phone back into her hand, and read the text message: _Where are you? You've been away for a few days now. Carrington is worried. _It was from Jonathan.

Joanna had essentially ran away from the Institute, after Carrington had purposefully put his life in danger, in the hands of DataDyne. And DataDyne still made off with Dr. Carroll. What was the purpose? What for? Why would an entrepreneur, of such great respect, would do such a stupid, suicidal stunt like that? Joanna was not going to wait around for answers. She was done. The Institute was dead to her, as far as she was concerned. She was on her way to downtown Chicago, going to get into a decent hotel, and get back into the business she knew all to well: bounty hunting. A business that was introduced by her father, Jack, four years ago. She pulled a stunt like this three years ago, and Carrington was able to sic Cassandra into siccing a crack team of DataDyne shock troopers to her location. Jonathan saved her. She hoped this wouldn't happen again, but it wouldn't surprise her if it did.

Joanna thought for a second, and then typed up a reply to Jonathan's message: _Carrington doesn't care about us. _Joanna sent the message. Seconds later, another reply: _Yes he does. He's explained everything to me. _

Joanna: _Whatever. I'm going back into the bounty._

Jonathan: _Who are you putting in a contract for?_

Joanna: _Chub-Yiba. I'm going to see if I can start tonight._

Joanna turned her phone off after the correspondence. She wouldn't waste any more of her time with the Institute, and involving herself with it anymore. This included Jonathan. Her eyelids began to weigh heavy, and her legs were beginning to numb. The process of sleep began numbing her entire body, bringing it into the state of paralysis. A comfortable paralysis. The sounds, the worries, all began to slip away with each throbbing second, a forward-looking mentality began to sweep across her diminished mind. But she still perceived it.

* * *

_G5 Corporation Building_

_Downtown Chicago, Illinois_

_Wednesday Morning_

Cassandra DeVries stood self-possessed in front of the large, rectangular-shaped panoramic window, which looked over the entire scenic, magnificent view of Downtown Chicago. The intense onslaught of rainfall wasn't letting up from last night, and she could feel the cold emanating from the window she stood behind. The dancing hovercars seemed to be carried by a invisible wind towards the horizon. The sky was dark, and unrelenting, even though it was well into the morning. Several dozen dark nimbuses floated above the horizontal, but multifarious skyline. _This will not turn out to be a good morning_, Cassandra thought. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted when she heard an abrupt rap on the door.

"Come in, please," Cassandra said. The mahogany door swung open, and Carla Alvarez revealed herself. She had a cup of coffee in one hand, and another small, black device on the other. She stepped in, soaking wet from the rain. She had her coat draped over her hand which carried the device, still visible to Cassandra, but obviously there to protect it from the rain. She gave Cassandra a quick smile, and found herself a seat at the long, meeting room-esque table, which was located a few feet behind Cassandra. Cassandra met her gaze, and also chose a seat across from Carla.

"I've secured a broadband frequency network for the G5 Building," Alvarez said. Her voice was calm, but serious. Cassandra noticed, for the first time, how attractive she was. Her face glowed in the meeting room's incandescent light, which produced striking details of her face. Brown eyes, thin, but golden lips. Cassandra noticed how golden her skin was, how bright her neck appeared. Her hair, wet, was dark, but unmolested by carelessness. She wore a coat, but Cassandra knew that Carla's body was almost impeccable.

"Where's the frequency hosted?" Cassandra inquired.

"At the Fairmane Nightclub in the Gold Coast. We have several counterintelligence agents at the club as we speak. By nightfall, the frequency should be completely tamper-proof," Alvarez paused, and pointed behind, but above Cassandra. "This whole upper floor will be planted with anti-listening devices. They're also on the same frequency as the secured broadband network."

"What's the frequency?" Cassandra asked. Carla promptly pulled out a pen, and a notepaper from her business bag, and scribbled something down. She tore off the paper from the pad, and slid it across the table with her index, towards Cassandra. It read: _803.12 UHF_

"The weather won't affect the anti-listening devices. If it does, we have several agents onsite, who have this," Carla produced what looked like a thick coin. It was round, slightly jagged on its edges, and had a faint brown color to it. "This is a UHF Deprocessor. It emits and EM pulse that shuts down the frequency it's assigned to. In this case eight-oh-three-point-twelve. It then searches for a new signal, and when it finds one, it re-encrypts the new broadband frequency. We'll only use this if the weather worsens, and when we won't be able to maintain a clearer frequency."

She handed the device to Cassandra, and she scrutinized it. It had a small face in the center of the coin, similar to the old-world five-cent nickel. It was the size of a dollar coin, though. Cassandra nodded, and tossed the device back to Carla, and she let out a sigh.

"Something's wrong with Doctor Carroll. Carrington's computer thugs removed a key algorithm from the sapient's inner codes." Cassandra said, with clenched teeth

"Have the scientists been able to discover what code the sapient is missing?"

"No, but Trent's associate, you know, the tall blonde man we've been working with, has developed a backup sapient. It isn't a complete copy, but it still has the key algorithm we need."

Carla rubbed her chin, inundated in a deep thought, "But what if the algorithm doesn't work? I mean, it's a copy, not the original."

"We're discussing that tomorrow. Trent's associate contacted me via e-mail a few days ago. He wants to commence the diving operation in the Pacific, but he needs permission from the President."

"...And the best way he could do that is through Trent," Carla finished. "I don't trust Mr. Easton, nor his associates. They seem far to shady. We don't even know their real names."

"We don't need to, Carla. The organization they work for has pushed far beyond technological boundaries we've held ourselves for too long. If we continue business with them, they're promising us new technologies that can push DataDyne into the forefront of medicine, military applications, and scientific relevance." Cassandra let out another sigh.

"But what applications do they have? They're humans just like us. What can they offer us that we don't have?" Carla asked, staring at Cassandra. Cassandra remained silent. She wasn't telling her the whole truth about Trent's "associates", as he liked to call them. "...And what about the diving operation in the Pacific? What's that all about? Miss DeVries, I'm getting the feeling that you are not telling me everything."

"That's because many things that go on in this corporation are best kept under wraps. And many of these things are far outside the realm of counterintelligence, Miss Alvarez. Your job is to completely seal DataDyne from industrial espionage, and you've done a great job. But everything else that is not within your control or sphere of expertise must remain outside your sphere and control. Understand?" Cassandra stood up, and pointed at the cup of coffee Carla had on the table. "I'm going to get me a cup of coffee." She removed herself from the room quickly, with a muffled click of the door's release hatch sinking into the locking mechanism.

Carla shook her head, angry at the fact and realization that she remained naive of many of DataDyne's operations, and that Cassandra had basically told her to keep her nose out of Cassandra's and Trent's business. Carla reached into her pants pocket, and pulled out her cell phone. She accessed her phonebook, and thumbed down through the list of people until she came to the name: _Carrington_.


	10. Lubba Loft

**Chapter 9: The Lubba Loft**

_Downtown Chicago, The Gold Coast_

_The Lubba Nightclub

* * *

_

Joanna reviewed her notes one last time. The man she was hunting was Igor Duprovnikov, a former Chub-Yiba bounty hunter, turned informant for another bounty hunting bond that Chub-Yiba was in heavy competition with. Mitsubishi wouldn't tell her what the other company was, because it frankly had no relevance in this hunt. Looking down at the chicken scratch she scribbled on her notepad, she squinted to see the address Igor was staying at : _Apt. Complex 8, Room 13_. The man was actually staying at a chain of apartments located on a floor above a popular nightclub called Lubba, located at the popular nightspot, the Gold Coast, in downtown Chicago. The nightclub was owned by several Russian mob bosses, until it eventually became a predominantly Chinese venue. Although it's still ran by the Russian mob, Chinese gangsters and cliques still use this club as a front for meetings. Joanna looked at the small headshot photo of Igor. He was particularly good-looking, well-groomed, and had dark brown hair. She could see his shirt collar in the headshot, and it was neatly ironed. This man obviously had a great taste in clothes and presented style. It wouldn't be hard for Joanna to spot him, even if he wasn't in his room.

Joanna let out a quick sigh, and sat down on the edge of her hotel room's bed. She produced a MagSec 4 from underneath her pillow, and two magazines. The MagSec is a handgun designed by the Global Armaments weapons manufacturing company. It fired nine-millimeter rounds from a seven to ten-round stick magazine. The recoil had a vicious kick to it, but Joanna knew she could take the punishment the Mag dished. She shoved a magazine into the MagSec's receiver, and tugged the slide back, ejecting a round into the chamber. She tucked the MagSec into her coat pocket, tucked the notepad into the other pocket, and shoved her cell phone in her back pants pocket. She sprinted out of the hotel, and down into the lobby, exiting it, just to be immersed in the unending rainfall once again. She only waited several minutes at the taxi stop before a hoverTaxi swooped down and gave her a lift. She told the man she was headed to Lubba, and the car was en route.

If she successfully captured Igor, which she knew she was, Mitsubishi would pay her seven thousand Chinese Yuan, which translates into roughly one thousand American dollars. Because she worked for a Chinese-owned bounty bond, they paid their hunters in Yuan, but it would be no problem getting it converted to the American dollar. That's how the bond worked, she guessed. But she didn't question it. Bounty hunting had long been apart of Joanna's blood, and it had lied dormant after being recruited into Carrington's little spy games. Joanna noticed that the rain hadn't stopped, not even for a few seconds or minutes. The sky had an apocalyptic blackness, just dark. No sun in sight in the skies. The dark, water-filled nimbuses just rolled lethargically across the sky.

At this time, Joanna could hear the faint, dissonant pounding of Industrial music, of course, coming from the Lubba nightclub. As soon as the taxi pulled up by the parking lot of the club, Joanna slid the man a stack of twenty-dollar bills, and said "keep the change." She disembarked from the cab, and began walking quickly into the club. Despite the terrible weather, there were throngs of people lining the outside of the club's wall, waiting to get in. Two megaspeakers regurgitated the constant, dissonant thud of electronic bass-drum beats, and Eastern-style chromatic electronic riffs. Probably Japanese electro/house music. Joanna wasn't going to stand out and wait in line; she had a bounty to hunt. She shouldered her way through the hordes of people, dressed in wild attire, but still maintaining a sense of sanity in compliance with the weather (dressing somewhat warm).

She approached the bouncer, who was dressed reasonably warm, but was still bulky, even through the heavy leather jacket. He saw her approaching, and extended his hand out, close to her face. "You're cutting in front of all these people. You'd better have a good reason, girl." The man's voice was gruff, and hoarse, as if he were yelling at people all day. Joanna pulled out her I.D., and a set of papers, "I'm a bounty hunter for Chub-Yiba. There's someone on the upper floors I need to speak with." She allowed the silver grip of her MagSec to slip slightly out into sight from her coat, and the bouncer knew she was serious.

"Alright, go on," He unhooked the velcro barrier that stood between him and her, and she walked into the club. The dissonant beating was so loud at this point. She could feel the heavy vibration of the beat reverberate throughout her lungs, and throat. The volume level was high, in spite of all the commotion, talking, laughter, and general chitchat going on throughout the club. Strobe lights flashed sporadically from a disco ball in the center of the club, presumably a dance floor, and there were two bars, opposite of each other. The smell of liquor, margaritas, and cigarette/cigar smell filled the air, and reached her nostrils promptly. Through the lights, and heavy smoke, she could see a set of stairs, shrouded in a red light, just ahead and slight off to the left of where she currently stood.

She shouldered her way through the clubbers, until she reached the stairs. She climbed them, and the noise level dropped slightly, the muffled sound of the dissonant beating still resonating in her lungs. She was on a cobblestoned walkway, enclosed by a long, corrugated handrail, that ran about forty feet ahead, and broke off into several sections of apartment-style buildings. _Complex 8, Room 13_,Joanna thought. She was at Complex seven. Complex eight must have been the next section that broke off. She continued down the walkway until it broke off into the next section. She climbed a small set of stairs up to Complex eight. _13, 13, 13,13_, Joanna continuously repeated mentally. She walked past rooms seven, eight, nine....ten, eleven, twelve..._thirteen_. Joanna came to a stop, and stared at the brown, shoddy-looking door for a second.

_This is it_, she thought. She took a step forward, and knocked three times loudly on the door. "Igor Duprovnikov! This is Chub-Yiba Bail Bonds, open up!" She stood back, and awaited a response. Nothing. She repeated, "This is Chub-Yiba Bail Bonds! You are under arrest for filtering vital information to a competing bonds!" She awaited for a response. Maybe he couldn't hear anything because of the loud music downstairs. She doubted it. Joanna one give it one more shot, then she'd have to break down the door, and force Igor out. Just as she was about to give another pound to the door, she swore she heard the sounds of rapid gunshots, in quick succession. She was correct when she found herself taking cover beside the door, as splinters of wood and chunks of the doorjamb spat out next to her, bullets punching holes into the door. She waited for the gunshots to cease, and then she managed to give a quick peek through the busted-up door. Igor, or whoever was shooting at her, had overturned a couch, facing the door, and had the muzzle of some sort of submachine gun sticking out from the top of the overturned couch. He was blind-firing at the door.

Joanna, keeping her MagSec at low-ready, prepared for the man to fire more shots, but he didn't, keeping his muzzle aimed at the door silently. Joanna held her breath, and barged into the doorway, kicking in what was left of the door. She could see the flare of the muzzle brightly illuminate, as bullets spat in a spray of fury at her. She reflexively kicked in another doorway inside the entryway off to the left, staying covered from the spray. "Igor! Stop your shooting! I'll be forced to kill you!" Joanna yelled. "Fuck off, bitch! You won't take me alive!" He maniacally yelled back, spraying a jagged burst of gunfire at her, bullets partially breaching the doorjamb her left shoulder stayed behind. She could feel the pounding of the bullets hitting the other side of the jamb.

After that last jagged spray of gunfire, Joanna could hear the man curse underneath his breath. He was out of ammo. "Alright, Igor! I know you're empty. Just surrender your weapon, hands up!" Joanna whirled around from her hiding spot, to see the man sporting a Falcon 2 in his right hand, and an empty UGL Liberator in his left. He had the Falcon to his skull, and he tossed the UGL away. He was going to shoot himself.

"Listen, Igor. What's the point of killing yourself?" Joanna asked. The man wore a pair of blue jeans, and a white T-shirt, speared with grey dust, what appeared like gunpowder burns. Oh yes, the whole room was filled with the smell of gunpowder. "I'm gonna do it. And you ain't gonna stop me," Igor started, pressing the Falcon deeper into his skull. "All you want is that bounty, huh? Well...guess what? You ain't gonna get it." Igor took a few steps back, away from the overturned couch, towards a back glass-sliding door, with a patio behind it.

"Well, if you kill yourself Igor, I won't get the bounty, but Chub-Yiba won't have to worry about you spilling our secrets to the other bond."

"I don't care if I live or die. But the funny thing is, _you _won't get paid if I'm dead. So it will ultimately be your loss." Igor said. Joanna noticed Igor's eyes drifting towards the door behind her. He smiled, and just as Joanna turned around, two gunshots rung out, both hitting Igor. He gave a muffled, death rattle, and slumped against the patio sliding-glass door. The person at the doorway was none other than Jonathan. He kept his Falcon trained at Igor, and then he holstered the pistol, and calmly looked at Joanna. Joanna glared at him, the overpowering feeling of anger and hostility arising in her.

"What the _fuck _are you doing!? That was _my _bounty! I was about to get him to put his gun down, so I can get my _fuckin'_ money! Jonathan, what..." She cut herself short, to catch her breath and take hold of her anger. She couldn't. "...What the fuck are you doing here anyway?! I told you, I'm not going back to the Institute. Not after what happened to Carrington, and not after what happened to Doctor..."

"We've found Doctor Carroll," Jonathan said, interrupting Joanna's anger-ridden rant. Joanna took a step back, the anger seemed to begin wafting away from her.

"What do you mean we've found Doctor Carroll? He's long gone. DataDyne took him from Carrington."

"Yes, but we've found him again. He's transported to the G5 Building, here in Chicago."

"What's the G5 Building?" Joanna asked.

"It's the front corporation for DataDyne's operations. It's here in downtown Chicago. That's why I'm here. And I knew you'd be here too. Carrington wants us to get the sapient out of there. He also wants us to listen in on a meeting Cassandra is going to have."

Joanna threw up her hands. "Oh, hell no. Carrington can go to bloody hell for all I care. No more retrieving things. No more covert missions, no more....just...." Joanna slumped onto the ground, in a fetal position. She placed her MagSec onto the floor. "...I can't do this anymore, Jonathan. I'm not built for this type of work. It's wearing me down to the point of sheer weakness. I can only do this, I can only bounty hunt." She pointed at Igor's corpse. Jonathan knelt down next to Joanna, and he reflexively pushed her head onto his chest, in a comforting manner. She began to sob. Not the type of sobbing you hear at funerals. But the type of sobbing that only represents defeat.


	11. Conspiracy I

**Chapter 10: Conspiracy** **I**

_Downtown Chicago, The Gold Coast_

_The G5 Building

* * *

_

Cassandra DeVries marched towards the G5's meeting room with Carla Alvarez at her side. Alvarez gave the young guard standing at parade rest a telling eye contact, and he quickly strolled to the computer console that sat to the right side of the blast door, typed at the keypad, and the door slowly opened vertically with a pneumatic hiss. The blast door was reinforced with a metallic-blue metal core, and coagulated concrete above and below the door, including the hard-wood floor. This protected the meeting room from direct munitions and incendiary attacks. The two women walked into the meeting room, a well-sized room, dimmed slightly, with a long, metallic rectangular-sized desk in the center. In the far south of the room was an elevator, with "G5" emblazoned across it, inscribed in some type of bluish-carbon alloy.

The room was heavily reinforced with impenetrable concrete, which made the room, to say the least, very unembellished. But Cassandra didn't care about how the aesthetics of a meeting room. As long as it was outfitted with anti-listening devices, in which it was. Tiny vats, unseen by the naked eye, were placed along the ceiling, walls and floor of the room, and these vats emitted ultra-high frequency nodes that disrupted most modern-day and archaic broadband, recorder, and cellular connections. In other words, anyone with a simple tape recorderor even a highly-advanced CamSpy can't break these UHF anti-listening devices were also on a firewalled broadband network set up throughout the G5 building. _803.12 UHF_, Cassandra remembered. That was the frequency the devices operated on.

Cassandra batted an eye around the meeting room in one quick glance, and sat down at the desk, placing her briefcase on the table. She proceeded to remove the contents: files of Dr. Carroll, satellite photographs, transcripts, etc. She looked up from the work and her eyes locked with Carla.

"Will they arrive late?" Cassandra asked casually.

"Most likely, ma'am. I haven't been greenlighted by a few of the onsite agents yet.

Cassandra sighed in annoyance. "The sapient...it's secured in the vault correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Which vault?"

"Vault 306, ma'am. It's the most secured vault in the building. Outfitted with..."

"I know what it's outfitted with," Cassandra interrupted. She sighed again in annoyance, because Trent Easton and his associate didn't arrive yet.

* * *

_Downtown Chicago, The Gold Coast_

Jonathan and Joanna quickly left the bullet-riddled apartment of Igor Duprovnikov, and down to the Lubba Nightclub. The music was still as loud and dissonant as it was before, and they both felt comfort in knowing that the ruckus in the apartment wasn't heard and didn't attract any unwanted attention from anyone. Igor was dead, and that was the end of it. The Chicago police might come tomorrow after someone discovers the mess, and the two agents would leave the trail cold. But that problem wasn't even a blip on the radar. Through Joanna's anger and frustration at Carrington, she decided she had nowhere else to go. She came to the glum realization that bounty-hunting was a relic of the past, more specifically, a relic of her father. This profession was long dead inside her. And she knew it. _Maybe Carrington isn't all that bad. Maybe he's really TRYING to help me, _Joanna thought, as the two shouldered their way through the crowd of dancers and club-goers. They reached the exit, and pushed open the doors. A relief pulsed through Joanna, and she closed her eyes for a few seconds to let it permeate her.

The weather had let up a bit, but it was still overcast, and the late afternoon winds began to pick up. Jonathan tugged on her shoulder to snap her back into reality.

"Come on, we've got to go. I've booked a hotel for us, and all of our equipment is there." Jonathan said. They walked across the wet streets and into an underground taxi annex that was beneath a _Gazroth _building. The hovertaxis were parked neatly in the dank car garage, and a few people were already programming a few taxis to take them to their destinations. Joanna and Jonathan looked around for an available taxi. "Here's one," Joanna pointed at a hovertaxi, and opened the passenger door. Jonathan got into the driver's side, and pressed a button on the center console. A greenlight flashed on the dashboard computer, and the screen sparked to life. The ions gave of a faint metallic smell, indicating that this taxi's console hadn't been on for quite some time. The blue screen gradually turned green, and a few options popped up, in bold green letters:

_Fare - Payment - Off - Panic_. Jonathan pressed "Fare", and an amount option clicked on. It read _$5.00 old or new currency allowed_. Jonathan reached into his trenchcoat pocket, and pulled out a five-dollar new currency bill, and fed it into the slot just above the console.

The console hummed and cracked a bit, it's internal computer reading the money, and an option saying "_destination" _appeared on the screen. He typed in "Ghast Hotel" and clicked the Return button. The taxi's antigravity thrusters croaked to life, and the taxi rose vertically through the aperture on the ceiling of the taxi garage, and it sped away, through the airborne antigrav highways. Jonathan looked over at Joanna.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, placing a hand on Joanna's shoulder. Joanna felt that he was genuinely asking.

"I'm better. But I still don't understand what we're doing. We're breaking into a building that DataDyne is using as a front, and getting back Dr. Carroll?"

Jonathan smiled and gave a small chuckle. "I know it sounds far-fetched, but yes. Dr. Carroll is valuable to the Carrington Institute. He knows what DataDyne is up to, and I think it's something on a massive scope," he paused and looked Joanna directly in the eyes, "it could affect the humanity and tranquility of the human race as we know it." Joanna felt the seriousness of Jonathan's speculation. She backtracked a little.

"You said that Cassandra is having a meeting. But with who?"

"We don't know. But we do have several undercover agents, and an informant inside the G5 building. Grimshaw's already briefed them on recording the meeting, and feeding the audio back to the institute. All we have to do his hope we have enough C4 to blast through the vaults that Grimshaw found when he mapped up the G5."

"Wait...we're _blasting _our way through? That'll attract too much attention!" Joanna said surprised and confused.

"It's the only way. This is last-minute stuff we acquired from our agents inside. They're prepared for it, so all we have to worry about is a full-scale DataDyne response..."

"...Which will surely happen," Joanna finished. "I hope we don't fuck this up," She finally said.


End file.
